


I Don't Look Good in Orange (or Mea Navis Aëricumbens Anguillis Abundant)

by candygramme, spoonlessone (mistress_mary)



Series: Manhattan [2]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-25
Updated: 2020-06-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:41:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 30,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24901738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/candygramme/pseuds/candygramme, https://archiveofourown.org/users/mistress_mary/pseuds/spoonlessone
Summary: Our Big Bang from last year, "First We Take Manhattan" left the story with unanswered questions.  We thought that we should answer them, and so this is our attempt.Just to recap last year's story:Jensen is an up and coming designer.  He recruits Jared as his model and falls for him (of course).  One of his female models (Adrianne Palicki) takes up with Misha Collins, who is a drug dealer working for a cartel being investigated by journalist Aldis Hodge.  Collins gets Adrianne hooked on heroin, and, Jensen, along with Jared, Aldis and Mark P., who is Jensen's tailor, go after him.  There is a scuffle and Collins falls off the roof of a building and dies.Jensen's first collection is a huge success,  Now read on...
Relationships: Danneel Harris/Aldis Hodge, David Haydn-Jones/Mark Pellegrino, Jensen Ackles/Jared Padalecki
Series: Manhattan [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1802836
Comments: 12
Kudos: 116
Collections: Supernatural and J2 Big Bang 2020





	I Don't Look Good in Orange (or Mea Navis Aëricumbens Anguillis Abundant)

  
  


Prologue

_Kevin Frazier: Welcome to Entertainment Tonight. The world of high fashion has crowned a new king. Here's Alaina Huffman to tell you more._

_Alaina Huffman: Hello. I have with me in the studio new designer Jensen Ackles, and with him, his principal model, Jared Padalecki. Gentlemen, welcome._

_Jensen: Thank you, Alaina._

_Jared: Thanks._

_Alaina: Mr. Ackles, Jensen, you appear to have set the fashion world on its head with your recent runway show. Your use of rich, colorful fabrics for men's clothing has taken New York by storm, when for years the emphasis has been on women's couture. Can you give us a little insight into your aims for the future of your brand?_

_Jensen: As you know, I used to model myself, and I became tired of all the drab browns, greys, and blacks that men are expected to wear. I looked at the rest of the animal kingdom and saw that the boys all like to look pretty for their ladies. Take peacocks, for example. The ladies want the handsomest, best dressed male. Lions too. Females flock to the guy with the handsomest mane. We guys deserve to be able to display ourselves a little, too, don't you think?_

_Alaina: Absolutely. Tell me, Jared, how do you feel about the direction men's fashion is taking? Are you a peacock?_

_Jared: Yes, ma'am. I'm from Texas, and I've got western shirts with more embroidery on 'em than you can shake a stick at ! :laughs: I welcome the opportunity to get a little fancy!_

_Alaina: Now, Jensen, there was a commotion at the end of your runway display. Can you tell us what that was about?_

_Jensen: That was unfortunate, and we can't say too much about it, because there's an ongoing police investigation happening, but I can say that just as the show was ending, Adrianne, one of my models, was kidnapped by a jealous boyfriend, and Aisha, the other model, was shot trying to stop it from happening. It's all settled now. We're going to try not to have that be a regular part of our shows._

_Jared: We're heading for Milan next. That's going to be a blast!_

_Alaina: I hope it goes really well for you. I'd like to thank you both for interrupting your busy schedules to be here with me this evening. Now back to you, Kevin._

__

~0~

Adrianne Palicki followed the girl from reception as she led the way to the impressive double doors of what had to be the corner office of a really high prestige organization and pushed them open. The girl was bleached blonde, with a tousled mop that was badly in need of conditioning, and Adrianne smirked. Bleached hair was always tough to keep in good condition, and she was proud of her own silky, blonde mane.

“Just go in. Miss Connell doesn't like to be kept waiting.” Without saying anything further, the girl turned back to her position at the desk, leaving Adrianne to make her way into the office.

“Well, hello. Don’t be shy; come on in.”

The woman behind the desk was tiny. Adrianne had seen her photo, but hadn’t actually realized just how diminutive she was. As Adrianne entered the office and moved towards the desk, the petite woman rose to her feet and came around the desk to approach her. She was wearing an emerald green shirt that was obviously silk, tucked into a pair of distressed jeans, and 4” stilts in the same emerald green. To top it off, she had a mane of red hair that spilled over her shoulders in thick, soft waves.

She didn’t say anything further, just took Adrianne`s hand and led her over to a couch beside the wall-to-wall window, through which Central Park was visible. "There now. Would you like a cup of something, my dear?"

"Oh, no, thank you." Adrianne took a deep breath. "I have to watch my caffeine intake. It's important for my skin." She smiled. "I need to get my looks back or I'll be out of a job."

"Silly girl! You're gorgeous already, but that's not why I invited you here." The petite woman bit her lip and twirled a red curl around one finger as if she were feeling indecisive. "I wanted to make a proposition to you." She gave Adrianne a small smile. "I read about your unfortunate fight against addiction. I'm so proud of you for overcoming it, and wanted to ask you if you might entertain working for my charity, 'Kick the Habit'. We need someone high profile and beautiful like you to represent the charity, and to act as a cheerleader for the kids we're trying to help break free from addiction."

Adrianne's eyes opened wide as she listened to the soft, Scottish burr. "You want me...? What would I have to do?"

"Well, we'd kick off the program with a huge media campaign. TV, magazines, newspapers, the internet..."

"My goodness, ma'am, won't that cost an awful lot?" Still wide-eyed, Adrianne ran the numbers in her head. "You're talking at least a couple of hundred thousand dollars..."

"Oh, heavens, call me Ruth, dearie. And of course it's expensive to do it right, but it'll be worth it to get the word out that drugs will kill. If we can save lives, it'll all be worth it." She turned to Adrianne, eyes sparkling. "We'll send you out on a tour of the nation. You'll be even more famous than you already are. The teenage boys will all fall in love with you, and all the young girls will want to be you. You'll have a wonderful effect on the opiate statistics. I just know it."

"I'd love to do it," murmured Adrianne. "I think I should go talk to Jensen about it first, though, before I say yes. I don't want to leave him in the lurch."

"Jensen?" Ruth raised her eyebrows. "Oh, yes. I remember now. House of Ackles, right? Well of course you must talk to him. You've been with him for a while now, haven't you?" She rose to her feet and went over to her desk. "Are you under contract to him right now, dear?"

Rooting through the papers on her desk, Ruth eventually found the folder she'd been looking for and turned back to where Adrianne was sitting.

"No. Not a contract - not since we did the collection last February. I've just been recovering from the attack and the drugs and stuff. I just think I owe him. He's been really good to me."

"Well, not to worry then." Ruth handed her the folder. "There. That gives you all the details of what I'm prepared to offer and a basic description of the program. Why don't you take a day or so to consider it and let me know on Wednesday? You know we'd love to have you, but we've got a timeline to consider, so don't take too long." She smiled sweetly as Adrianne took the folder and rose to her feet. "If you decide to go with us, we'll get started straight away."

Stammering her thanks, Adrianne found her way to the door, looking slightly stunned.

~0~

The atelier was in what to the outside world might appear to be a state of chaos. As Adrianne entered the office, Danneel was on the phone shrieking at a supplier whose delivery had somehow gone astray.

"We need those skins. We need them now. I don't know how to put it more clearly than that. Milan is in less than two months, and if we don't go fully prepared, because you can't keep your end of a transaction, House of Ackles will be suing you for everything you have. I'll have your skin for a goddamn lampshade, believe me." She gave Adrianne a casual wave as she passed through to the stairs before returning to her invective-filled tirade.

Giggling, Adrianne made her way upstairs to the sewing room, to where Mark Pellegrino and Jensen were arguing over Jared, who was standing on the stool that allowed Mark to work on the pants he was wearing without having to stoop.

"I'm telling you, leather won't work. It's not going to drape the way you want it. You'll need to fit the legs more closely if you don't want the piecework to show and ruin the lines." Mark waved a pair of shears to punctuate what he was saying, and Jared's eyes followed them apprehensively. As Mark drew breath to continue his tirade, Jared slowly brought his hands around to cup his groin protectively.

Jensen, who had been frowning at his tailor, suddenly beamed and began to draw, the lines of the pants he was sketching out taking shape rapidly. "Maybe you could make it work like this." He turned his sketch around so that Mark could see it.

"Yeah. That we can do, if they ever deliver the leather." Mark put the shears down and strode over to the door, yelling for Danneel. Yanking the door open in mid yell, he came face to face with Adrianne, who was just about to enter the sewing room.

Jensen and Jared both fell about laughing as Mark suddenly deflated, his voice cut off abruptly as Adrianne pushed her index finger in the center of his chest to move him out of her way.

As she sailed past him, he stood looking confused, then headed downstairs, presumably to confront Danneel about his order but this time using his inside voice. Meanwhile, Adrianne zeroed in on Jensen, who was still chuckling.

"Jen, do you have a few minutes? I really need to talk to you."

"Of course." Jensen sobered up rapidly as he saw the serious expression on her face. Leading her over to one of the cutting tables, he held a chair for her and perched himself on the table. "Okay. What's on your mind?"

Adrianne began to tell Jensen about the offer to represent 'Kick the Habit', along with the salary on offer. Jensen could see that she was excited at the prospect of helping to stop kids from falling into the trap of addiction, the way that she had done.

"Listen, Addie." Jensen put a gentle hand over hers, where it was resting on the table. "I can tell that this is your passion. Not gonna lie, it doesn't give me a lot of time to find myself a new model in time for Milan, but I honestly think you should do it. You'll be awesome." He bit his lip and peered over his shoulder, checking to see if Mark had returned, and then grinned when he saw that he hadn't. "You do know that Mark's gonna have a nervous breakdown, don't you? He's been secretly in love with you for years!"

She giggled. "Davy would have something to say about that! I'll miss him." Tears welled up in her eyes as she considered the change and leaving the House of Ackles. "I'll miss all of you. You're my family. Oh, God! I can't."

"Of course you can." Jensen put an arm around her. "You'll be amazing."

She gave him a little smile, which faded rapidly as he added, "Of course, Mark will probably want to staple your feet to the floor. He hates change, you know."

"Oh, no!" She looked around furtively, but Mark was apparently still downstairs. "I don't want to leave you in the lurch over Milan. Mark would never forgive me. What can I do?"

"We'll manage." Jensen gave her a squeeze before letting her go, then turned to return to Jared, still standing up on the stool, covered in muslin pattern pieces, checking his phone as he waited for someone to either release him or finish sticking pins in him.

The thundering on the stairs heralded Mark's return, and he burst back into the sewing room just as Jensen was about to let Jared get down from his perch.

"Danneel's fixed it. They're sending over the shipment right now," he announced and beamed as he saw Adrianne. "Hey, baby! Gonna dress you up like Xena, I think. You'll be a riot." He sauntered over to her and pulled her into a hug.

"Down, boy!" Jensen's words made Mark temporarily pause as he nuzzled into her neck. "Addie's got more important things to do than trot around in a leather kilt. She's going to work for 'Kick the Habit.'"

Mark deflated, and Jared gasped too, from his lofty position. "You're leaving?" asked Mark.

"I am. I've been offered the position as spokesman for the charity, and I think I want to pay forward the second chance I got, thanks to you guys. It's my chance to make amends for the stupid things I did." Adrianne's eyes teared up as she was speaking, and so did Mark's.

"Aww, baby, I'll miss you." Mark kissed her cheek. "I won't have anyone to yell at any more."

"Now, that I won't miss," she replied with a giggle.

"Well, come see me about a wardrobe when you're ready." Mark still looked a little teary. "I'll make you the most gorgeous spokesperson in the world."

"Thank you." She stumbled over to the stairs through falling tears and made her way out with a muffled, "Bye."

There was a pause after she'd gone. Mark's nose was decidedly pink, and he sniffed a lot, but he shrugged his shoulders as he turned to face Jensen. "What now, oh, fearless leader?”

"I guess we need to find someone new, as soon as possible. We don't have long, so we need to get started." Jensen grinned. "Danni will organize it."

Jared laughed out loud at that, and then yelped as half a dozen pins impaled him in tender parts of his body.  


~0~

The leathers they had been awaiting arrived shortly after Adrianne's departure, and the whole collection began to take shape. Jensen had agreed that Mark was right about the way pants in suede and leather would drape, but he was determined to have at least one Samurai style pair in his collection, so an order of microsuede had been added to the beautiful, buttery leather and suede skins they were working with.

Jared found himself garbed in costumes that would be perfect in a sword and sorcery production, and decided that he probably had the best job in the world.

He was working out, bulking up a little so that the clothes could be shown at their best, and had changed significantly from the lean, slender youth who'd first arrived in New York. His photos were in all the glossy magazines, and he had just signed a contract to endorse an energy drink for runners. All in all, life couldn't be better. If only he didn't have to spend half his day standing perfectly still while people used him as a pincushion, it would be perfect.

He was reflecting on his good fortune as he tried on one of the latest designs, pants and a harness designed to fit over a leather shirt, and he was feeling pretty good about himself.

Emerging from the dressing room to show it, he was overjoyed to find Matt Bomer sitting with the others.

"Hey, how's it going?" Jared ignored the whistles from Sandy and Aisha as he hurried over to fistbump his friend and catch up with how things on Broadway were progressing without him. "I bet you're missing my crap all over your couch, aren't you?"

"Kind of." Matt pulled him in for a hug and slapped his shoulder. "I was just telling Jensen. I got raided by the cops the other night. They arrived with a search warrant and went through my stuff. I don't think they found what they were looking for because they just thanked me and left, but it was weird." Matt shook his head in wonder at the ways of the NYPD. "Anyway, that's not why I dropped by. He winked at Jensen. "I've got an evening off, because I have a bit of a sore throat, and I figured it might be nice to go out for drinks or something, so long as you don't think I'm coming down with the Coronavirus or something."

"Sounds like a plan," announced Jensen, elbowing Jared.

"I know just the cure for your throat." Mark chipped in as he studied the way Jared's pants fit over his behind. "And, Jay, if I wasn't already married, I'd be proposing to you right now. This is the best look I've ever seen on you. I'll be astonished if the whole of Europe isn't swaggering around like extras from Game of Thrones, once they see you in this." He smacked Jared's ass and grinned. "Go hang it up and put on your civvies before I behave inappropriately."

"You mean _more_ inappropriately," smirked Jared as he made his way back to the dressing room. "You're a terrible man!"

"Sorry, not sorry," called Mark as he turned back to Jensen and Matt. "Did somebody say drinks?"  


~0~

The atmosphere at Olive or Twist was laid back, mellow, and just the antidote to the frantic pace of the last few weeks. For once, Jensen appeared relaxed, and Jared was overjoyed to see his man laughing and joking instead of stressed by the hundred things that seemed to be going wrong with his attempt to get a collection together for Milan.

It seemed as if everything had been going wrong recently. First, Aisha, who had been shot when Adrianne had been abducted, was still healing from the scar that the bullet had left. She needed her runway outfits to be redesigned to conceal the angry red wound. Then, fabric orders had gone astray on a regular basis. One shipment of expensive silk had arrived in tatters, looking as if it had been slashed by Freddy Krueger as it passed through Elm Street on its way to the atelier. Another was somehow lost in the mail, and Danneel had finally traveled to Thailand to buy and transport the goods in person. That had caused all kinds of problems with customs, who were evidently suffering from hangovers by the way they'd behaved. Poor Danneel had been held in customs for 13 hours before she'd been cleared and permitted to bring the much needed goods back home.

The leathers and suedes they had ordered from their usual supplier simply never arrived, and excuse after excuse had been given, until finally Danneel had found a second wholesaler who had filled the order for them. Now they were going to have to find a new model who would serve as a contrast to Aisha and replace Adrianne. Jared wasn't usually inclined to credit conspiracy theories, but he was starting to think that someone out there was trying to sabotage the House of Ackles.

Matt was on form, telling them some of the funny things that were happening behind the scenes during his musical, and Mark, who had apparently been to see it three times already, was full of questions about the costumes.

Jensen, who had acted in high school, began a tale about his performance in 'West Side Story.' "We'd rehearsed the dance scene for weeks, and it was looking pretty good by the time the dress rehearsal came by. The costumes were mostly from what was stored away in the green room, but Mari was wearing her own dress for part of the play. We started 'Tonight' okay, but somehow, when I twirled her, the fastener on the back of her bodice got caught on my zipper or something, and she twirled right out of her dress. I was mortified."

"I bet she was traumatized. I would've died!" Mark looked horrified at the thought.

"Baby, you would never wear your own dress on stage," smirked David Haydn-Jones, his arm around his other half.

"Too right! Let them pay for me all the way." Mark nodded in agreement.  
"You're too big to twirl anyway," added Jensen. "I don't think even Jared here could twirl you."

"Oh, I don't know." Matt studied first Mark and then Jared. "He's pretty strong. I think we should have them try it out and see if it's possible."

"Hmmm." David threw five dollars onto the table. "My money's on Jared."

"Don't you give him a hernia," yelled Jensen. "My money's on Mark."

"Traitor," hissed Jared. "I'll twirl him. You'll see."

"Okay, fine," said Mark, wearing his most world-weary expression. "But I'm not wearing a dress."

"You're all insane." Danni had been sitting quietly, sipping her highball. “But I'll hold the money. Place your bets, gentlemen."

"We should probably do this outside," said David. Several onlookers had also placed bets and there was a small crowd around them now, apparently excited to see grown men behaving stupidly.

"I guess we should be going home now anyway," said Jensen. "I've got to get up tomorrow and start searching for a new model, now that Addie's out of the picture."

There was agreement generally at that, and Jensen began telling Jared and Mark just what the moves should be in order to reproduce the twirl they were supposed to be doing.

"So you spin him with the one hand first and then you put your arms around him and twirl him off the ground, right?”

"Got it." Jared cracked his knuckles and beat his chest a couple of times.

"Oh, my God, Jared! If I'd known how easy it was to get you to hug me, I'd have set this up weeks and weeks ago!" Mark fluttered his eyelashes and pretended to fan himself as he waited for Jared to quit mugging for the audience.

There was the kind of silence that usually only occurs when either a death-defying feat or a total disaster is anticipated. Someone began to mimic a drumroll, and the two men went into action. At first it seemed as if they were both going to fall over, and everyone hurriedly moved back, but then, gradually, Mark's feet left the ground and he was swung around in a full circle. A round of applause broke out as the winnings were handed out, and people began to drift away, some back into the bar and others to head for home.

As Jared and Jensen were about to make their way back to the House of Ackles, Mark called, "Hey, Jared, maybe we can do the lift from Dirty Dancing next. What d'you think?"

Jared was laughing as he flipped Mark off and slid his arm around Jensen's shoulders, ready to go home. Matt murmured a thank you for the awesome evening and hugged them both before he climbed into his car. Waving, the two men set out to walk the couple of blocks to the atelier.

Raising a hand in farewell as Matt sped past them, Jensen was still laughing at the earlier event. "I'll never get over Mark's face. I really think he was terrified when you actually managed to swing him round with his feet off the ground. I'm going to have to design Tarzan outfits for you. Jungle print with a collar would look really good, don't you think?"

"You want to make me look like Fred Flintstone?" Jared said with a laugh. He was about to say something else, but as they turned the corner he could see what appeared to be an altercation at the gates to the atelier. Clif was waving his arms around at a small group of men who appeared to be in contention with him about something.

"What the hell?" Jared pointed at the scene up ahead and Jensen finally noticed and frowned as he made out several vehicles with flashing lights. The two of them quickened their pace as they went to find out what was happening. They could soon see that there were police uniforms on some of the men confronting Clif, and Jensen shook his head, hoping that there hadn't been a break-in or something of that nature. "Clif, what's going on?"

"Jen, these guys want to search the place, and I said they needed to wait for you. They won't tell me what the problem is or what they're looking for." Clif folded his arms and leaned back against the garage door. "We don't want anyone to get photos of the new collection, and I couldn't watch them all at once."

"That's fine, Clif. Thank you for taking care of things for me." He turned to the group of police. "Sorry to keep you. Who's in charge here?"

The man who stepped forward was heavy set and bearded. "I'm Lieutenant Kurt Fuller," he said. "And I have a warrant to search these premises."

Frowning, Jensen asked Jared to call Mark to get him over there, "And if David's with him, so much the better." Turning back to Fuller, he nodded. "That's fine, officer," he said. "Feel free to search anywhere. Just, because I'm trying to keep my collection confidential, I will need to be with whoever is searching the sewing room." He raised his palms. "Just to make sure that nobody takes photos. Clif, you're with me. Jared, stay here, babe."

Turning, he headed inside and up to the sewing room, followed by Fuller and Clif while two other officers made their way upstairs to the apartments.

Jared stood outside, confused and unsure about what to do while half the police present streamed into the building. He could see Mark running up the sidewalk towards them, followed by David, and so he was completely unprepared for two of the remaining cops to shove him to the ground and taze him, cuffing him as he lay twitching.

"Jared Padalecki, you are under arrest for the murder of Dmitri Krushnic. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say may be held against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford one, one will be appointed for you..."

Jared was hauled to his feet and bundled into one of the police vehicles as Mark finally made it to the gate, leaving him raging impotently on the sidewalk as David ran up to join him, wondering what exactly had just happened.

"They arrested Jared." Mark sounded absolutely stunned.

"Why on earth would they do that?" David shook his head in an attempt to process the information.

"They said he murdered someone. Never heard of the guy before, but the name sounded Russian, or maybe some other Slavic language." Mark shrugged. "The whole thing doesn't make sense. I have no idea why the cops are searching us either."

"Jensen's going to be devastated," murmured David, leading the way into the atelier and frowning as he looked at the mess that the police search had caused.

"Oh, no doubt." Mark began picking up receipts and invoices that had been scattered across the floor. "Jensen's going to be pissed, but not as badly as Danneel. Just look at this mess!"  


~0~

Jensen had no idea what the police might be searching for. Clif had gone upstairs with the officers searching the apartments, while Jensen supervised those actually in the atelier. He trusted Clif to keep an eye on things and to try to see what they were after. But if Lieutenant Fuller’s search of their workplace was any indication, Jensen doubted Clif would be able to glean anything useful. They’d done everything down here from looking inside the mop bucket in the broom closet to inspecting the press packets for their Fashion Week show last year. It was like they had no idea what they expected to find.

One pair of officers was in the showing room looking at God knows what, while the lieutenant and his partner were idly leafing through the account books from Danneel’s desk. Jensen was trying to keep an eye on both groups, and almost missed Fuller darting up the stairs to the workshop area. In the few seconds it took Jensen to catch up with him, he’d barged into the sewing room itself and knocked against the drawing table, where Jensen had sketched a slight adjustment to Jared’s trousers during their fitting session earlier. Before Jensen could make sure his notes were still legible, the other officer was searching a frock Mark had left on one of the dress forms. Jensen winced as the man pawed at the bodice with clumsy fingers, not even bothering to unpin it before pulling the silk this way and that. Jensen didn’t hear the fabric rip, but he fervently hoped the delicate fabric hadn’t stretched beyond repair.

“Hey!” Jensen exclaimed. “Please be careful in here! What are you even looking for? I can help you.”

“Stay back,” Fuller insisted, gesturing at Jensen with a piece of paper that must be the warrant they had shown to Clif. “This gives me every right to look at anything I want, without your interference!”

“But, you’re just damaging things for no reason!” Jensen persisted, feeling a bit panicky. “I’m happy to show you whatever you need to see!”

“I don’t have time to worry about some stupid dress, so leave us alone and—” Fuller started, then stopped mid-tirade as his radio squelched to life. Jensen didn’t process anything the staticky voice said, but apparently the lieutenant had no trouble understanding. “Never mind, we have what we need.”

Jensen watched dumbfounded as the lieutenant turned on his heel and led his troops back down the stairs. Jensen picked his jaw up off the floor and followed after him, protesting vociferously. “But who’s going to clean up this mess? I have a show to get ready for.”

No one bothered to respond, and Jensen gave it up as a lost cause. He was sure he’d find out what all of this was about eventually, but right now he had more pressing concerns. He was speaking before he was even fully down the stairs. “Jared, I’m sorry, but I need to see if I can at least redo that drawing while it’s fresh in my mind. I’ll be up later. Mark, can you see if that dress you left on the form is salvageable?”

No one responded to that either, and Jensen looked around impatiently. “Is everyone deaf? We don’t have time to worry about a bunch of cops going through our stuff. We have a show to get ready for. In Milan. Milan! Wait, where’s Jared?”

They all just looked at each other, obviously unwilling to answer him, and Jensen stalked outside impatiently, just in time to see Lieutenant Fuller’s vehicle pulling away from the curb. He turned around to see his friend exiting the atelier and walking toward him. Finally, Mark spoke, “Um … Jen. Why don’t you come inside?”

“What the fuck, Mark?” Jensen yelled, feeling slightly relieved to have a target for some of his frustration, even if it wasn’t the right target. “What the hell is going on? Where is Jared?”

Mark glanced back inside where Jensen could see David on his cell phone through the glass double doors. He was probably just seeking moral support, but Jensen was fresh out of patience. “Just spit it out already!”

“Umm, okay,” Mark finally replied, and then took a deep breath before continuing. “Jared’s been arrested, supposedly for murdering some guy called Dmitri Krushchev or something like that. David’s calling a lawyer that he knows, so can we go inside now?”

Jensen barely heard anything after the word “arrested”. White-hot fury coursed through his body, immediately followed by a sense of loss more profound than any he could remember feeling. It was like an essential part of himself was missing. Which was silly, since he hadn’t even known Jared a couple of months ago, and all they needed to do was clear up whatever misunderstanding had landed Jared in jail and they’d be together again. But Jensen would have to do that _without Jared_ , and he didn’t have the first notion how to begin. He crumpled against Mark, and let his friend lead him into the building.

Clif was back downstairs, and handed Jensen a cup of coffee as they walked in the door. Jensen reflexively took a sip and barely noticed the generous jolt of brandy Clif had added. Mark seemed relieved to see Clif, and stepped to another corner of the foyer, pulling out his phone. Jensen slid into a nearby chair, sipping his coffee and trying to remember where Danneel had gone.

He had just remembered that she didn’t live upstairs anymore and was reaching for his own phone when Mark spoke. “Danni and Aldis are on their way. They hadn’t made it home yet, so they should be back shortly.”

“And we have an appointment with an attorney friend of mine first thing in the morning,” David added, apparently finished with his phone call as well. “In the meantime, you should try to get some rest.”

“I can’t rest with this mess!” Jensen protested. “Besides, Danni’s on her way. Maybe she’ll have some idea what to do.”

“Not sure what else we can do for Jared right now,” Mark said, way too calmly for Jensen’s taste—didn’t Mark realize that Jared was in _jail?_ Mark had continued speaking and Jensen reran the words in his head when he realized that his friend was waiting for him. “But we can work on getting this place back in shape. Clif, Davy, can you two pick up down here and we’ll go check the sewing room?”

Oh, right. The sewing room. Jensen was angry all over again thinking about those thugs stumbling around and wrecking his designs. He was up the stairs before Mark had stopped looking to make sure Jensen was moving. “They made a mess up here as well. Do you think you can salvage this?” Jensen indicated the bodice that had been savaged by the ham-fisted cop.

“Hmm,” Mark responded, fingering the mostly-finished garment. “Doubtful. The threads are completely separated; no way will the fabric go back into shape. But it’s not a huge loss, since I made this to Addie’s measurements. I’d have needed to redo most of the bodice anyway to fit a new model.”

“That’s true,” Jensen agreed. “I’d forgotten about that little wrinkle. I hope Danni has some ideas about that too.”

“How’s your sketch?” Mark asked as he began putting the room back to rights. He picked Jensen’s pencil up from where it had rolled under a sewing table and handed it to Jensen. “Can you decipher what you meant to do?”

“I think so,” Jensen answered. He focused intently on repairing the damage. He wasn’t able to distract himself exactly, but every time worry started to creep in, he forced his attention back to his task. “The pencil slashed across the drawing on its way down, but I think I can recreate it.”

Working alongside Mark was somehow soothing, and if there was less of their normal banter than usual, neither of them mentioned it. By the time Danneel and Aldis got back, they had the sewing room pretty well tidied up, and had a pretty good idea of the actual damage. Fortunately, other than the one dress, it was minimal. Jensen hoped the same could be said of the office downstairs, but he doubted it, given the receipts he’d seen strewn everywhere. But that would be Danni’s problem. He took a second to thank his lucky stars that she was in his life.

As if his thought had summoned her, he heard her voice from downstairs, “How the hell could you let him get arrested?”

“We were still down the street,” David answered defensively. “Jensen and Clif had gone up to supervise the uniforms searching the place.”

“I should’ve been here,” Danneel said, and Jensen knew her well enough to know how guilty she was feeling. Slowly, he made his way back down to the office.

“No,” he interjected. “You don’t live here anymore. You're with Aldis, and besides, I can take care of myself.”

Danneel stopped her tirade, and gave him a fierce hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Keep telling yourself that.”

“Most of the time,” Jensen sighed dejectedly. Danneel patted him on the arm reassuringly and then turned to the rest of the group. “Clif, where’s the whisky?”

Clif turned to retrieve the whisky, and get out the glasses. Jensen was not at all surprised when David took the bottle from him and neatly poured them each a stiff belt. They each took a healthy slug, and then Danneel asked, “What do we know?”

They all looked at each other, and then everyone’s gaze landed somewhat apprehensively on Jensen. He got that they were worried about him, but he would somehow have to rise to the occasion. He shivered a little, because he really wasn't sure how to deal with what had happened, but finally he sighed and started talking. “When we got back from the bar, the cops were here arguing with Clif about searching the place. He and I went in with them to make sure they didn’t snap pics of the designs. I asked Jared to call Mark and get him here. When I got back, they said Jared had been arrested.” He drained his glass, and David quietly poured him another as soon as he set it down.

“We heard them say he was under arrest for killing someone called Dmitri Krushchev or something—” Mark started, but was quickly interrupted by Aldis, who had been lurking quietly in the back, clearly trying not to intrude.

“Dmitri Krushnic?” he asked sharply.

“Yeah, maybe,” Mark answered. “Why?”

“That’s Misha Collins’s real name!”

“But, that doesn’t make any sense!” Jensen protested. “That was an accident! We’ve been through this already, and Traci got us out of that without even any charges being filed.”

“So, why has it come back up now?” Danneel asked thoughtfully, then continued. “Anything else?”

“I called James,” David offered. “He’s this hot-shot criminal defense lawyer I know.”

“James?” asked Aldis. “Not James Patrick Stuart?”

“The very same,” David confirmed. “Why? Do you know him?”

“Only by reputation.” Aldis whistled. “He’s only the best criminal defense attorney on the island. How do you know him?”

“He comes into the bar from time to time,” David shrugged.

“So, what did he have to say?” Danneel prodded.

“We’re not going to be able to do anything about Jared tonight,” David said, glancing at Jensen tentatively.

“It’s fine, Davy.” Jensen brushed off his concern. “I’d already figured that part out. Just please tell us what he said.”

“He’s pretty sure he knows where they would have taken him. Apparently all felons are taken to The Tombs,” David continued. “And he’ll have someone there first thing in the morning to register them as counsel of record. We have an appointment at 9 a.m., and hopefully he'll be able tell us more at that time.”

“Wow,” Aldis whistled again. “He cleared his schedule for you? You must know him better than just as the owner of a bar he goes to _from time to time_.”

“I might’ve done a favor or two for him in the past,” David admitted. “But what matters is that he will help Jared.”

“Thanks, Davy,” Jensen said sincerely.

“You’re welcome,” David replied. “Just glad I could help. You guys are family.”

“So, it doesn’t sound like there’s anything else we can do tonight.” Danneel said, bringing them back to the topic at hand. “I’ll stay in my old room, Jen, and everyone else can go home. We need a good night’s sleep before tomorrow.”

“You don’t need to do that,” Jensen argued, feeling equal parts grateful and guilty. “Go home; I’ll be fine.”

“None of that now,” Danneel objected. “I want to stay.”

“Then at least let Aldis stay with you,” bargained Jensen. “Then I won’t have to feel quite so guilty about screwing up your love-life.”

“Fine,” Danneel agreed so quickly that Jensen had to wonder if that had been her intent all along. She shooed the rest toward their respective homes. “Go on, everyone. Try to get some rest.”

Everyone went off to their own beds, and Danneel made sure Jensen drank a full glass of water and took some CBD oil before bed. She must’ve known what she was doing, because even though Jensen had been sure he wouldn’t sleep a wink, he drifted off after only the second or third run-through of the evening’s events, mulling over all the things he could have done better.

~0~

Jared Padalecki was tired. He was more than tired. He was exhausted, confused, and very frustrated. He'd been cuffed and manhandled into the back of a police van for some reason, and he had really no idea what that reason might be. He'd been taken to a police station and dumped into an interrogation room, cuffed to a link in the table and left to stew.

It had felt like hours before someone had come to see him, at which point he'd been dozing off in the chair. When they'd begun throwing questions at him, he'd found himself more confused than ever. All he could tell them was that he had no clue what they were talking about. Even in his state of confusion he could tell that his answers weren't what they were looking for.

This had gone on for some time before they had left him alone again to slowly sink into a stupor. By the time a group of uniformed police had come to uncuff him from the chair and haul him away to a prison cell, Jared was nursing a raging headache. He was thirsty, angry, and he needed to pee so badly he was afraid that a deep breath would send him over the edge.

He apparently hadn't been moving fast enough for one of the cops, because they'd shoved him hard into the bars of the cell, so now he now had a split lip and a bruise from his chin to his forehead. The only good thing about his situation was that there had been a toilet in the cell, and he could finally empty his aching bladder.

Lying down on the bench in the corner of the small room, he'd eventually fallen into a restless sleep.  


~0~

The rattling of keys against the metal bars of the door woke Jared from his nightmare. A loud voice demanded that he get on his feet and start moving, which he did, his still-thundering headache not helping at all. However, he managed to sit upright by himself without need for outside intervention, and allowed himself to be towed along, back to what was presumably the room he'd been in earlier.

This time, the person who sat down with Jared was in plain clothes, and he was just introducing himself as Detective Sergeant Tigerman, when there was a commotion from outside the door. It burst open, revealing two men in uniform and a third, a very handsome black man wearing an expensive suit that Jared recognised as being from Jensen's fall line.

"Mr. Padalecki, my name is Sterling Brown, and I'm from the firm Stuart, Heyerdahl and Brown. Mr. Stuart will be representing you, and I am here to advise you to say nothing until he has consulted with you."

"Oh, man!" Jared gazed up at Mr. Brown from bloodshot eyes. "I couldn't say anything if I wanted to! I have no idea why I'm here or what's going on,"

"Didn't they charge you with something?" Brown looked puzzled.

"Oh. yeah. I'm supposed to have murdered someone I never even heard of." Jared shrugged his shoulders. "Jeez. I'd kill for a cup of coffee right now."

Brown chuckled. "You should probably rephrase that under the circumstances. Not the best way to state it." He turned to Detective Tigerman. "Perhaps he could have a coffee, yes?"

Nodding, the detective signaled one of the uniformed officers. "Officer Lindberg, please go and get coffee for the prisoner. I'll have one as well." He raised an eyebrow in query to Brown, who nodded.

"How do you take your coffee?" he asked Jared, one hand raised to delay Officer Lindberg.

"Cream and sugar, please. Lots of sugar." Jared gazed at the lawyer as if he were the second coming. "Thank you."

"Tell your boss he's on the docket for 11 a.m. Judge Smith hates to be kept waiting." Tigerman frowned as his phone suddenly shrilled. "I have to go take this. I assume you'll be accompanying Mr. Padalecki until Mr. Stuart is able to be here, so please excuse me."  


~0~

Outside the interview room, Tigerman looked around furtively before he responded to the call.

"Aldis, I can't talk now. I'm in the middle of..."

"Gabe?" Aldis's voice cut through the protest. "Gabe, what's going on? You guys have arrested Jared Padalecki on a trumped-up charge that was dealt with weeks ago."

"Listen, Aldis, I can't say too much right now, but there's new evidence that points to your guy having intended Krushnic to die." Gabe checked the corridor and saw Lindberg returning, bearing a Starbucks tray with the requested coffees. Reaching for the black coffee closest to him, he thanked Lindberg loudly and remained silent until he and the coffee had disappeared into the interview room. "From the evidence we have, it looks like a premeditated murder, and that changes things completely," Tigerman continued.

"What evidence?" Aldis sounded irritated. "You know what happened. Collins was going to kill the model, and several of us tried to catch him. Damn it, I was there. I saw the whole thing. Jared didn't even touch the asshole. He was dancing about on the edge of the building and it crumbled under his feet. He fell. I saw it happen."

Gabriel Tigerman heaved a put-upon sigh. "Look, I can't discuss an ongoing police investigation. I'm in the middle of interrogating him now, and he's going to be arraigned at 11. That's all I can tell you right now. All I can say is that it looks as if he's got you all fooled. The evidence indicates that he came to New York specifically to kill Collins and take over his business."

"What the hell are you talking about? He..."

"Sorry, man. Gotta go. See you in court, maybe?" Gabe disconnected the call and slid his phone back into his pocket. The call had disquieted him. He and Aldis had been friends for years, and it was somewhat worrying to him that the reporter was arguing Padalecki's innocence so vehemently. He decided that he needed to go and review the evidence before proceeding with his questioning. Entering the interview room again, he gestured to Officer Lindberg.

"Listen, Chad, something's come up. Have him returned to the cells, and make sure he's up in the court by 10:45 at the latest. I'll see you there, okay?" He indicated Brown with the tilt of his chin. "Not going to get much out of him while papa bear over there is hanging over him anyway. I'll send Olsson in to help you wrangle him back to the holding cell, and please, let's make sure that he doesn't have any more bruises on him. It doesn't look good."

"Got it, Sarge." Lindberg nodded, and Gabe headed off to inspect the evidence he'd been told about.  


~0~

Jensen woke up from his uneasy sleep to the sound of someone pounding on his bedroom door. For a moment, he reached out for Jared, before realizing that he was somewhere out there, locked up and probably terrified.

Stumbling out of bed, he grabbed the water and Tylenol Danneel had so thoughtfully left for him and popped the two pills as he made his way over to the door.

"We've got an hour before we need to be at the attorney's office." Mark was hopping from foot to foot as he spoke, and Jensen blinked at him, wondering if he'd flipped a couple of cogs. He just stared for a couple of seconds, and then it all came rushing back to him, and he gasped.

"Attorney. Right. Nine." he nodded. "Gimme a couple of minutes." He turned and darted to the bathroom. "I just gotta..."

Satisfied that his friend and employer was once again back in the land of the living and aware that they had somewhere to be, Mark set the coffee machine going and then made himself comfortable on one of Jensen's easy chairs, settling down to wait.

He could hear the shower running, and nodded to himself, secure in the knowledge that Jensen, despite his love of sleep, was sufficiently aware of things not to drop back into slumber—or at least not until he was in the car and on the way to his appointment.  
  
True to his word, Jensen was back out in his living room, washed, dressed and presumably in his right mind within a very short space of time, and Mark went to pour him a coffee, handing it to him and then heading to the door.  
  
"Davy's going to drive you," said Mark, as they descended the stairs. "He knows where it is, and he knows this Stuart guy too. He'll be able to bring you up to speed as we go."  
  
"He's a good man." Jensen turned the corner to enter the office, and came face to face with Danneel and Aldis. Without saying a word, Aldis handed him a travel mug, while Danneel removed the empty cup from his hand.  
  
"We're going to follow you guys in case this attorney person wants further info on the situation. Aldis has all the info he's been working on, and he was there when that guy fell." Danneel patted Jensen's shoulder. "Get going. Traffic's a bitch at this time of the morning."  
  
Nodding, Jensen followed Mark meekly out into the yard, where David was waiting in his truck.  
  
"Morning," he said. "Jump in. You too, Mark. Anyone else?"  
  
"Aldis is going to follow us," said Mark, pushing Jensen into the passenger seat and climbing in behind. "He's a witness to what happened, so he thinks he might be useful."  
  
Nodding, David wasted no time peeling off and into the street.  
  
Danneel's assertion about the traffic proved to be accurate, and although the lawyer's office was reasonably close by, it took a good while to reach it. It was only a little before nine when they pulled up outside of an imposing looking building. "You guys go on ahead. There's underground parking around back, so I'll go stash the van and meet you at the office. It's on the tenth floor, okay?"  
  
Nodding, Mark jumped out of the vehicle and pulled open the door for Jensen, who had been very quiet on the journey. He offered David a wan smile and a mumbled "thank you" as he headed towards the glass doors.  
  
It was a perfect spring morning. Daffodils and hyacinths were blooming in the small strip of garden that adorned the building, and the sun was shining, although without any discernible heat. The sun's reflection dazzled off the plate glass, and Jensen wished he'd thought to bring a pair of sunglasses. Mark, who was somewhat more put together, was wearing his, and for a moment, Jensen contemplated mugging him. Only the knowledge that Mark was several inches taller than him, and had been a boxer before he'd discovered his love for creating haute couture prevented him from doing so, and by the time the two of them were safely inside, heading for the elevator, his eyes were streaming.  
  
By the time they arrived on the tenth floor, Jensen was looking almost as pathetic as he felt, and Mark took a look at him as they emerged from the elevator, then started to giggle. "Don't cry, baby. The nice man will get your toy boy back."  
  
"I'm not crying," Jensen hissed. "Fucking hyacinths and the bright sunlight. I'm allergic."  
  
"Typical!" Mark rolled his eyes. The office hummed with quiet activity, but there was nobody immediately visible. Catching sight of a box of tissues on what appeared to be a receptionist's desk, he was reaching for them when a slim, handsome man in a very elegant silver-grey suit emerged from one of the offices and strode towards them, holding out his hand.  
  
"Ah, good. I thought I heard someone arriving." The newcomer gave them a smile. "Is one of you Mr. Ackles?"  
  
"This weeping mess is Ackles," said Mark, grinning. "Mind if I grab a couple of tissues for him?"  
  
“It's the hyacinths,” grumbled Jensen, sniffing to try and stop his nose running like a tap. He muttered a word under his breath that could possibly have been thank you, but might easily have been something less kind, and took the offered tissue.  
  
“Oh, no! I'm so sorry. Do step into my office, please.” Leading the way, the attorney ushered them into a sunny office. Jensen, whose face was now much cleaner, accepted a seat facing away from the window with fervent thanks.  
  
“Good to meet you.” The attorney seated himself on one of the chairs and gave Jensen another smile. “My name is James Patrick Stuart, and I'm looking forward to working with you. David Haydn-Jones has, I believe, brought me up to speed on the problem at hand, and I think that our current focus must be on getting to Mr. Padalecki before his arraignment. I've taken the liberty of sending my junior partner over to advise him until such time as I can join them, so he knows that he has representation.”  
  
“Thank you.” Jensen ducked his head in acknowledgement. “Right now, I don't know if Jared even knows what he's supposed to have done.”  
  
“How do you mean?” James frowned.  
  
“When they arrested him, they accused him of murdering someone called Dmitri Krushnic, and I'm pretty sure Jared doesn't even know who that is.” Mark shook his head. “We didn't until a reporter friend told us that was the guy's real name.”  
  
“We knew him as Collins—Misha Collins,” said Jensen. “And Jared didn't kill him. I know. I was there.”  
  
“So was Aldis, the reporter I mentioned. He's a witness too.” Mark leaned forward. “I was there, but I didn't see it happen. I was busy helping Adrianne and getting her into the ambulance. The other three chased Collins up onto the roof.”  
  
A knock on the door heralded the arrival of a very pretty lady bearing a tray containing coffee and pastries. “Sorry to interrupt, gentlemen. I thought you might appreciate some breakfast.”  
  
“Wonderful.” James gave her his warm smile. “I suspect that I'll be out for the rest of the day, so thank you for coming in. I'll see you on Monday.”  
  
She nodded and left the room, and all three men reached for the warm croissants she'd brought.  
  
At that moment, James's phone rang, and when he checked the caller, he announced that it was his partner, Sterling Brown; Sterling was with Jared, who was listed to appear in court at 11a.m. Turning back to Jensen, James gave him a reassuring smile. “I don't think that this is going to present too much of a problem. I'm going to see what evidence the police have to make them bring a charge of murder. It seems a little off the wall to me. I'm going to get over to the detention center and meet Jared. I'll go with him to court, and that will free up Sterling, my associate, to do a little sleuthing. If you wish to attend the hearing, you can. I think your Jared would be pleased to see you there. It might give him a little comfort.”  
  
Jensen nodded. This was happening. His Jared was going to be in court. He'd be tried as a murderer and sent off to Rikers Island. How on earth had this happened? It felt like everything in the world had conspired against him in the past few weeks, but this? Nothing could ever feel so bad again.  
  
“What can we do to help with this?” Mark was the one who finally broke the silence.  
  
“Great question.” James turned to him. “If you—and everyone else who was there—can put down on paper exactly what happened last night, you know, times and who did what to whom, I would be most grateful. If you can get that to me as soon as possible, we'll reconvene here this afternoon at…” He thought for a moment. “Let's say 2 p.m. If you can bring anyone else who was involved, that would make things easier. Right now, I should get over to meet Mr. Padalecki and request some discovery documents. I don't have a lot of time.”  
  
Rising to his feet, James held out his hand again, first to Jensen and then to Mark. “It's a pleasure to meet you, gentlemen. Don't worry. I'm sure we'll soon get all this straightened out.”

~0~

Detective Sergeant Gabriel Tigerman was perplexed. Everything about the Padalecki case was strange. He'd been called into the DA's office that very morning and handed the case by the Deputy Chief himself with orders to expedite it. He knew all about the circumstances surrounding the death of Dmitri Krushnic, and indeed had been working with his friend, the reporter Aldis Hodge, for some time in an attempt to expose the drug ring he knew Kruschnic had been involved with.

Now, once more sitting in the DA's office he was getting a whole new perspective on what he'd hitherto believed to be an unfortunate accident brought on by Krushnic himself.

It seemed that Padalecki had been in correspondence with Krushnic—or Collins as he'd decided to call himself—and that Collins had in fact paid for his flight to New York. He'd been invited to come and work with Collins as a part of the consortium after his role in the underground drug ring in San Antonio had come to light, and it seemed that he'd used the situation with the kidnapped model to do away with Collins and take over the business.  
  
Gabe wasn't sure how that level of calculated evil measured up against the young man who seemed so confused, even about the dead man's identity. He could almost believe that the man was innocent if it hadn't been for the huge number of letters, emails, and plane tickets etc. that he was studying.  
  
“I'll have Julie make you a set of copies,” said Mark Sheppard, the District Attorney, scooping up the sheaf of papers and handing them over to a thin redhead who was standing right beside him.  
  
“Where did all this stuff come from?” Tigerman asked.  
  
“Padalecki left his script, along with all the enclosed papers, back at the theater when he decided to quit his role,” explained Sheppard. “The feller who took over the part from him found it and passed it over to Deputy Chief Beaver. We're looking at Bomer too, but so far there's nothing incriminating to be found except that he put Padalecki up for a few days, and they knew each other from back in Texas.”  
  
Gabe blinked. This was high profile stuff. Matt Bomer, and to a certain extent Padalecki, too, were well known, and this case could quickly become a nightmare. “Oh, my God!” he whispered. “Once the press gets hold of this, it's going to be hell.”  
  
“Absolutely.” Sheppard smirked. “Play your cards right, and there could well be a promotion in it for you.” He began to pack away the details of the evidence in his briefcase. “We should get over to the court and see justice done now, shouldn't we?”

~0~

Jensen’s first sight of Jared was a shock. Without Danneel’s hand on his arm, he’d have probably come out of his seat when he saw Jared’s bruised and battered face. He didn’t know what he’d do to the person who’d put them there, if he ever learned who was responsible. Probably best if he never found out.

The actual arraignment was a blur. The evidence the district attorney presented was so convincing that if Jensen hadn’t known better, even he might’ve believed Jared was guilty. Jared started as he listened, and tried urgently to speak up, but James shook his head and put a hand on Jared’s arm. Knowing Jared as well as he did, Jensen could tell from the set of his shoulders how hard it was for Jared to sit quietly and not speak up for himself.

James argued eloquently on Jared’s behalf, but in the end, the judge decided they had enough evidence to indict him. Only Danneel’s elbow in Jensen's ribs kept him from standing up in court and proclaiming his lover’s innocence. In the end, Jared was indicted for murder. The prosecutor argued that he was a flight risk and that the judge should set the bail at a million dollars. Jensen’s heart sank when the judge readily agreed. The only concession the judge would make was to James’s passionate plea to set the pre-trial hearing for Thursday, rather than making them wait the full ten days.

As soon as the judge had left the chamber, Jensen hissed at Danneel, “Where are we going to come up with that kind of money?”

Danneel wordlessly put her arm around him, and Jensen barely held it together as they left the courtroom. He was surprised to see Matt Bomer talking to James in the corridor, since he hadn’t even noticed Matt had come to the hearing. But James didn’t want to talk at the courthouse, so he asked them all to meet back at his office. It was just down the block, so they all walked over together.

Jensen couldn’t stand the tension, so he had to say something. He said the first thing that popped into his head. “Hey, guys. Thanks for coming.”

Mark looked at him like he’d grown another head, but David answered easily, “Of course we’d be here. You guys are our family.” Mark, Aldis, and Matt all nodded in agreement. Jensen felt just as agitated as before the hearing, and lapsed into an awkward silence. Danneel pulled him closer to her in a sort of hug that he knew was meant to comfort, but did little to ease his anxiety.

Back at his office, James produced a bottle of whisky and glasses from a sideboard. At Danneel’s nod, he poured a round. Jensen accepted it gratefully and took a sip to try to settle his nerves. James pulled out a folder and flipped through the evidence for a second, and then looked up at Matt. “You said you had information that refutes this?”

“Yes, I do,” Matt started, and then stopped and introduced himself. “I’m Matt Bomer, a friend of Jared’s.”

“I know who you are,” James replied with a smile, shaking Matt’s hand. “I’m a big fan. How do you know Jared?”

“We knew each other back in Texas,” Matt answered. “I got him his first audition, and he drove up here from Texas.

“Audition?” James asked. “Was he in one of your plays?”

“No,” Matt answered, then corrected himself. “Well, he was for one day, but Jensen here showed up to the after-party and scooped him up to be the principal model for his menswear line.”

“Okay,’ James muttered, taking notes. “And you say he drove up here. Do you know of any way we can prove that?”

“His van,” Matt answered and Jensen felt a glimmer of hope. Maybe this nightmare would be over soon. He must have smiled or made a noise or something because Matt turned to him and explained. “He left it in the parking garage at my condo. You guys have been so busy, and I don’t need the parking space, so I never brought it up.”

“And this van has Texas license plates?” James asked. “Do either of you happen to have keys?”

“Yeah,” Matt answered curiously. “He left me the extra set in case I needed to move it. Why?”

“Most people don’t take that sort of trip without leaving some kind of evidence in their vehicle,” James answered. “And if he’s been as busy as you say, he probably hasn’t had time to clean it up.”

Jensen smiled at that. The Jared he knew probably only cleaned his truck once in a blue moon, and even then just swept everything into a garbage can. “I’m sure he hasn’t. We’ve been kind of busy, and I never even thought to ask what he drove up here. It’s not like we need a car in the city.”

“All right. This could be something we can use. Please excuse me a minute.” James pulled out his phone and hit a button, then said into the microphone, “Sterling? I think we got something. Can you come to the office?”

“Who is Sterling?” Aldis asked as soon as James ended the call. .

“He’s my associate. Since the vehicle is in your garage, and you have a key, we don’t need a search warrant,” James explained.

“I could just grab it,” Matt offered. “No need for him to go to my condo since I’ll be going there anyway.”

“I’d rather let him do it,” answered James. “I’m confident he can search without contaminating whatever evidence he might find. And you can be confident that he won’t share anything he finds that is irrelevant. Or share anything that is relevant with anyone except for those of us involved in achieving the best outcome possible for Jared.”

‘It’s better to be safe than sorry,” Aldis agreed. “I might know how to conduct an investigation safely and securely, but you don’t know that. And I doubt anyone else in our group knows how either. Just let me know if he needs any help.”

“You can give him your card,” James suggested.

“Sounds like a plan,” Aldis replied.

“Assuming we are right, and we are able to prove Jared’s innocence,” James said. “Do you know why anyone would try to frame Jared? Or who might’ve had access to the theater to plant the evidence?”

“No,’ Jensen said. “Everybody loves Jared. I can’t imagine anyone who would want to hurt him.”

“Not that you’re biased or anything,” Danneel pointed out. “But we have been having lots of things go wrong lately.”

“We were just joking the other day that it seemed like the world was out to get us,” Mark agreed. “But maybe it really is some sort of plot to undermine the business? Having Jared out of commission could certainly do that.”

“I just thought it was a string of coincidences amplified by our compressed schedule,” Jensen said. “But maybe there is something going on.”

“What sort of things have been happening?” asked James.

“Mostly supply problems—orders going missing, others arriving damaged.” Mark answered. “Danneel had to fly to Thailand to actually get one of our silk orders in usable condition. But now, with Jared’s arrest and the likelihood that the evidence was planted, one has to wonder.”

“Any idea who could be responsible for any of that?” James asked. “Or for planting the evidence?”

“Lots of people have access to the theater,” Matt answered. “From actors and crew to the occasional journalist, publicist, or VIP. I’ll try to get you a list.”

“I don’t even know where to start with the supply problems.” Danneel answered the other question. “Several suppliers and shippers were involved in the affected orders.”

“I can see what I can find out,” Aldis offered. “Just give me the particulars, and I’ll look into it.”

“Okay,” James said. “Sounds like we have some good ideas. Jared should be back to the Tombs by now, so I should go down there and see him. Can we meet again on Monday morning, see what we’ve learned?”

“The what?” Jensen thought his voice must have squeaked.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” James said in a voice Jensen was sure he was meant to find comforting. “I forgot you’re not familiar with the slang. That’s what we call the facility he’s being held in. Don’t worry, it’s much the same as the rest of the facilities in New York. And we will do everything we can to get him out of there as soon as we possibly can.”

This was all more than Jensen could take. He drained the rest of his drink and the refill James poured him as appointments were set, and then followed the others out to Danneel’s Range Rover.  


~0~

Sterling had agreed to meet with Matt and Aldis at the very fancy brownstone where Matt was currently living. He arrived very shortly after they did, and the three of them sat down for a brief conference about what they needed to do in order to give Jared the best possible chance of freedom.

Matt was paging through his phone and checking his tablet for relevant information as Sterling sat down.

“So let's see,” said Matt, leafing through his texts. “Jared texted me the day he left San Antonio and said that he was going to drive up to Memphis and check out Graceland on his way here. That was on January second, and he left the following day. We had a very brief exchange of texts, so I guess you guys will want copies?”

“I'll make notes if you like,” murmured Aldis, pulling out his recorder and pressing the button to turn it on. “Save trying to recap later.”

“That would be really good, thank you, man.” Sterling leaned forward as Aldis made a couple of notes. “James sent me the stuff that the police were presenting as evidence, and it seems that according to that, Jared flew from San Antonio to JFK on Delta Airlines. He's in touch with the airline to find out more about that, but the ticket was supposed to have been on January 5th, so this is good. What day did you and Jared actually meet up?”

“That would be lunchtime on the 7th. I took him to lunch and over to the theater for the audition. That was really just a formality, because the producers had already okayed the part for him just as long as he was big and beefy as a favor to me. It was part of why I committed to do the full 12 week run.” Matt grinned. “I've known Jared for a few years now, and I thought he'd be great. It was going to be a jumping off point for him. Little did I know just how high or how fast he was going to jump.”

“So he still could have met you if he'd flown in on the 5th?” Sterling frowned.

“Yeah, but that doesn't explain the nasty old rustbucket currently infesting my parking space down in the basement that's currently scandalizing the other residents of this upmarket residence.” Matt laughed. “Seriously, I don't think they'll ever let an actor lease this place again. I'm astonished parts didn't fall off as he was driving here. I know I wouldn't want to take it across the country.”

“Ah, the confidence of youth!” Sterling laughed. “So as far as you know, there has been no attempt by anybody to access this vehicle?”

“Nobody besides Jared, I'm pretty sure.” Matt got to his feet and went across to his desk to find the keys that Jared had left with him. “I'm hoping that he's really careless and never threw anything out, but let's go and see.”

Jingling the keys, Matt headed to the door, and the three of them filed out to head down to the underground parking lot where Jared's 1987 Aerostar languished.

“Good grief!” Sterling stopped in his tracks as he surveyed the little old vehicle. It had once been white, but paint had flaked and rust had encroached. Not only that, but one fender had been replaced and the metal was covered in green paint, obviously from a salvage yard. “That actually runs?”

“The engine is surprisingly good. I think Jay and his dad stripped it down and rebuilt it, but they were only just starting on the bodywork when he set out to get famous!” Matt smirked as he spoke. “If we get him out of jail, he'll be able to afford to get the cosmetic stuff done by professionals.” Striding over to the van, he unlocked the rear doors, revealing a jumble of items, clothing, a sleeping bag, assorted packets of ramen and candy, and a number of old food wrappers and empty soda containers.

“Sterling, where would you like to start?” Aldis came to peer in at the mess before turning to the lawyer.

“I think I'd like to start up front.” Sterling smiled as he pulled on a pair of latex gloves and passed a couple of pairs over to the other two. “With any luck there will be all kinds of receipts and stuff in there. If you wouldn't mind opening it up for me, I'll check through the glove compartment and the cab, see what's there.”

“Okay,” Matt moved to unlock the doors to the cab. “We'll poke through the back, look in pockets and that sort of thing. Maybe there's a receipt or something to be found.”

Setting down to work, Sterling and Matt began to go through the contents of the vehicle as Aldis filmed their progress.

They were just about finished, and Matt was suggesting that they go back up to his apartment when Aldis's phone began to shrill. Checking to see who was calling, he saw that it was Gabe Tigerman, and assumed that he was calling to tell him that Jared was guilty as charged. Calling over to the other two that he needed to take the call he swiftly opened the line.

“Detective Sergeant?” he said and awaited the comments about the guilt or innocence of Jared Padalecki. They never came.

“Aldis? I'm pretty sure that most of the department here is corrupt and in league with the drug cartel your model friend is involved with. I'm not sure what to do.” The words poured out in a tumult, and Aldis frowned. Something had obviously happened. He opened his mouth to tell Gabe to slow down but was too late. “I've got no idea who I can trust, and I'm pretty sure that you're the only one I know who's not taking kickbacks for turning a blind eye to shipments.”

“Okay, okay, hold on. I can't talk right now, because I'm in company, but we should meet as soon as possible. Give me a few minutes.” Aldis thought quickly. “You know the pedestrian arcade on 6 1/2 Street?”

“Yeah. I'm not far from there. Gimme half an hour.”

“Okay. Milo's Cafe. I'll see you in there when you arrive, and Gabe, be careful, okay?”  


~0~

Jensen was silent on the way back to the atelier. Danneel really didn't like the look of his pale face and jerky movements, and resolved to do whatever was necessary to make him focus once they were back at the shop.

Mark was driving back with David, and for that she was thankful. The thought of the two of them indulging in panic-stricken fantasies was a bit more than she wanted to contemplate. It was going to be tough enough to get Jensen back on track, and there was so much that still needed to be done before Milan. She had no doubt that Jared would be cleared once it was proven that the evidence used to charge him was a complete fabrication, but all the holdups they had been experiencing were adding stress to a situation that was already stressful in itself.

Pulling into the parking space in the yard, she turned to Jensen. “Listen. We don't have time for a nervous breakdown right now. There's way too much to do.” Hopping out of the SUV, she trotted around to yank open the passenger's side door. “Come on. I'll give you five minutes to rant and then you need to go back to work.”

Jensen was much slower to emerge from the SUV than she had been, and for just a moment her heart went out to him, because he looked so defeated. Then her common sense kicked in and she drew in a deep breath. “It's only four minutes now. Better hurry up.”

“You're a heartless, unfeeling woman,” he said, plaintively. “Did you see his poor face? He looks like someone worked him over. Someone will kill him before we can get him out again. You'll see.”

“Oh, bullshit! He's 200lbs of solid muscle. He'll be fine.” She smirked as she led the way into the office and reached for the whisky bottle. “Here, have some of Johnnie Walker's patent cure-all.” She poured them both a healthy slug and handed one over to him. “And then start thinking about who might have a grudge against you and the business, because James is right, someone is definitely out to get us.”

“You're trying to get me pie-eyed aren't you?” Jensen set the glass down and sighed. “Do you really think so?” he looked more downcast than ever. “I don't get it. Why would anyone want to get us?”

“I can't think of anyone right now, but the shit that's been going down since your collection was such a success last month is way too much to be coincidental. It's got to be happening because you've made an enemy who has contacts.” She threw back her liquor and poured herself another. “Start thinking back, babe. It's got to be someone who thinks you did them wrong.”

He nodded and heaved a heavy sigh, turning away to head for the stairs with his glass, when she began to cackle. Spinning back around so fast that his head swam a little, he frowned at her. “What the hell?”

“No, listen, Jen. It's perfect. Was just thinking, ‘when life hands you lemons’ and all that, and the best idea came to me. You've got to put a couple of jumpsuits into your collection, and preferably one of them needs to be orange.”

“Huh? Why would I do that?”

“Well, think about it. TMZ is going to be all over this. Jared in jail is just the kind of thing those nasty little bottom feeders like to dwell on. They'll be spreading it all over the internet and on any stupid TV show that will listen.” She smirked. “There's going to be so much publicity that when Jared's released and found innocent, it would be a crying shame not to capitalize on it. Design something that the trendy, fashion-conscious convict would wear around the jail. The fashion press will love it!”

“Hmmm... Part of the shipment we got today has some really gorgeous burnt orange suede. I was going to make a kind of cave woman outfit for Aisha, but…” Jensen nodded. “It could work! I guess this is why I put up with you, you nasty woman!”

“Damned straight! Oh, I'm going to need a statement from you for the press, something non-committal would be best, I think.” She tossed her hair back over her shoulders and switched on the answering machine to begin filtering through the messages that had been left. “Oh, and tomorrow morning you've got a bunch of would-be models to audition. I picked out about ten of them I thought might do, and Aisha will be here first thing, so you can see how they look together.” She indicated the stack of photographs and resumes that were sitting on her desk. “Feel free to take a sneak peek.”

Jensen was saved from answering by the arrival of Mark, who did ot look at all happy. “The vultures are already beginning to circle,” he announced, cryptically, and stomped off up the stairs. Moments later, Jensen gave a long-suffering sigh and followed him.

Danneel remained at her desk, paging through the messages that had been left, mostly from reporters, when her cell phone suddenly sounded the ringtone that told her Aldis was calling her.

“Oh, God, So many calls from the press! Don't tell me you want an exclusive too?”

“Haha! You're a riot!” Aldis sounded cheerful. “Listen, babe. I had a meeting with Gabe, and something's come up. I've got a hot tip, so I will probably be out late. I'll see you in the morning, OK?”

“I guess.” Danneel frowned. “Don't get into trouble, will you? I have a policy of dealing with only one jailbird at a time.”

“No danger of that.” Aldis chuckled. “Been working on this for almost a year. It's a drug bust, and it looks like I'll have the exclusive. The cops had all the wrong dates, but I've had intel from one of my sources, so it looks like things are going down tonight.”

“Wait a minute! Does this have any implications for Jared?” Danneel held her breath.

“Nah. I don't think so, or if so, only indirectly.” Aldis made an obscene kissing noise. “I'll tell you all about it when I see you tomorrow. Ciao.”

Sighing, she slipped her phone back into her pocket and went back to the answering machine.  


~0~

The following morning saw a throng of reporters camped around the House of Ackles, bristling with TV cameras and microphones, looking as if they were going to be there for the duration. As the audition time approached, Danneel started to worry that the candidates for assessment would never be able to find their way through the crowd.

Some of the gaggle had found their way around to the back yard, and she'd had to send Clif out to tell them that Jensen would only be giving a statement at the front of the atelier, and to back off to let the approaching delivery truck in.

She'd caught one enterprising woman who had somehow gotten inside the shop coming downstairs with her camera clutched in her hand, and had been forced to intervene as Mark seemed likely to punch her out, he was so mad. Finally, camera confiscated, and the woman herself ejected, Danneel called the security company they had used for their runway, and asked for half a dozen guards to be sent over.

Aisha had arrived sometime after 9 a.m., and had to fight her way through the mob with reporters yelling questions at her and shoving cameras in her face. After the security guards arrived, Danneel stomped off up the stairs, determined to haul Jensen down to start helping her with the mess she had been attempting to manage alone.

She found Jensen cocooned in Jared's duvet, looking completely devastated. For a moment she felt sympathy, but it didn't last. With a growl, she strode over to where he was huddled and yanked on the bedclothes, leaving him whimpering in just his boxers.

“It's your fucking business,” she growled. “Get your ass downstairs and give me a hand to make sure it doesn't go under.”

“I don't know…” Jensen started to say, but she was having none of it.

“If you want it to be in good shape by the time Jared comes home, you're going to have to pull your weight. There are people depending on you, and it's a shit show right now. I repeat, get your ass downstairs and take charge, or I'm going home.” With that, she turned and headed back down the stairs, not waiting for his response.

For a moment, Jensen froze. Did she mean it? Surely she didn't mean what she'd just said. He couldn't manage without Danneel, and she knew that. Stung into action, Jensen threw on a pair of jeans and a sweater, and thundered down the stairs after her.

As he stumbled into the office, she handed him a comb and a piece of paper. “Here. Do something with your hair. You look like you've been dragged through a haystack backwards. Then go and deliver your statement to the press, who are stopping anyone getting through. We already had one reporter get into the sewing room with a camera, and if something isn't done soon, we're going to have to start over.”

“Coffee?” he asked hopefully as he shoved the comb through his hair in an attempt to make it do what it was supposed to.”

“Coffee when you've done the statement.” Turning away, she sat down at her desk and began attacking her keyboard with venomous intent.

Sighing, he glanced at the statement she'd prepared. That seemed to sum things up pretty well. “Clif?” he asked, hopefully.

“Clif is busy chasing them all out of the back yard, so the van can get through. There are some security guys out front. Be nice to them, and they might help keep the press back while you talk to them.” She huffed and pointed at the door. “Now go!”

Jensen felt a certain amount of pride in the fact that he didn't whimper. At least, not until he was approaching the front doors and was well out of Danneel's earshot. Biting his lip, he took a deep breath and pulled the front door bolt. He could see that the security Danneel had mentioned were doing a great job in keeping the doorway clear, and gave them a quick smile.

When they saw him, the horde of reporters surged forward, and he held up his hand, hoping they would be quiet while he delivered what information he had.

“All right, you lot. Settle down, please.”

It seemed as though everyone was shouting at once, and he folded his arms, waiting. Finally a general hush seemed to develop, and he nodded. “Okay. One at a time.” He pointed at a woman near the front with a cameraman beside her.

“Sir, did you know that one of your models was trafficking drugs?”

To Jensen, the question felt as if he'd been hit by a bucket of cold water, and for a moment he was speechless. When he finally found his voice, he felt a flood of anger. He crumpled up his prepared statement and took a deep breath.

“I have no idea where you got that idea from. What I can tell you is that Jared, along with others of us, actually helped to stop a drug dealer, but the police have some information that seems to have been set up to frame him. We're expecting him to be released as soon as the DA can meet with our attorney.”

There was a hubbub, followed by a further burst of questioning. Jensen waited them out until there was a modicum of silence and then once again held up his hands. “Guys, that's all I can tell you, because that's all I know. We won't get any further information until Monday at the earliest, and it's more likely to be later in the week. Just keep in mind that people are innocent until proven guilty, right?”

There were signs that the melee was packing up, grumbling as they made ready to depart with what few crumbs of information they had. Slowly they began to drift away, and Jensen thanked the security guards who had formed a solid wall of muscle between him and the crowd.

“Thanks, guys. You were awesome. Come on in and we'll see what else we need you for.”

Leading the way inside, he stationed a couple of the guards by the door and then took the others through to the yard, where Clif was still attempting to get people to move away, hampered by Mark, who seemed to be trying to pick a fight with anyone who would fall for it.

“God help me, Mark. I know they're jerks, but if the cops take you away too, I'm gonna be up the creek without a paddle.” Mark reluctantly followed Jensen back into the atelier and up into the sewing room, where he found Aisha surrounded by a bevy of blonde, would-be models.

It was with some relief that Jensen saw Mark step up and take charge of the scene.

“Good morning, ladies. Thank you for coming. You have no idea how much we appreciate you turning out for us amongst all this chaos. I wish I could tell you that we're usually calm and quiet, but that would be lying, so if there is anyone here who doesn't feel they can cope with drama on a daily basis, now's the time to back away. We promise we won't hold it against you.

“If you haven't already submitted one, please give your contact sheets and resumes to Jensen here, and take a number. We're going to go into the showing room, and you guys are going to model your current clothes. Aisha, If you wouldn't mind getting them set up and then come join us, that would be great.”

Nodding, the model directed them to follow her through to the showroom where the runway was, handing out numbers as they went. By the time she had gotten them all in line and returned to join the two men, they were already sitting, clipboards at the ready.

“Okay,” called Jensen, favoring them with a smile he really wasn't feeling, “Let's go.”

And with that, the parade of blonde hopefuls began. There were several that looked good to the panel of three that were watching. Aisha and Mark shared whispered comments as the girls went by. Jensen could hear some of what they were saying and wanted to smack the two of them for being so catty, but remained quiet, too depressed to do more than glare. As the group finished their turns, they congregated at the back of the stage and waited patiently for the decision to be made. Finally three of the models were called up for further consideration, and the rest were thanked for their time and released.

The three who had made the first cut were invited to come and tell Jensen a little about their past experiences on the catwalk, before being taken downstairs to wait in the office while the three finalized their decision. That didn't take very long at all, since all three of them had picked out the same girl. Jensen sighed and made his way downstairs to thank them again and sign up their first choice, a very striking woman named Katie Cassidy.

As contracts were signed and Danneel verified that Katie had a current passport, Mark came thundering down the stairs. “Can I have her yet? I want to get that silk put to rights—the one that the cops almost destroyed the other night.”

Katie Cassidy found herself the center of a whirl of activity, and, for Jensen, the solution to one major headache at least.  


~0~

Jared was pacing. He wasn't used to being confined, and the lack of opportunity to exercise was making him crazy. He'd already done what felt like hundreds of pushups, but he didn't have any other brilliant exercise ideas right then.

The cell he was in allowed him to take five paces before he had to turn and retrace his footsteps, and it seemed to him that he was probably going to have worn a groove in the concrete long before he was able to get out of this place.

His attorney had visited him briefly, and he'd seemed like a decent guy. He'd brought Jared up to speed about the situation he was in, and told him that Sterling was hoping to find evidence of when he'd driven in his van. Jared had suggested that they search his phone too, since there were at least a couple of photographs he'd taken while en route, but the fact that it was now the weekend meant that nothing was going to happen for him until at least Monday, and that was two days away.

He'd seen Jensen in the courtroom, but hadn't been allowed to speak to him before being dragged away, back to his cell. For all he knew, Jensen probably believed the evidence that had been brought against him. He didn't think he'd ever been quite so miserable in his life.

His belly rumbled again. He really hoped that dinner time was soon, because he was starving. At breakfast time, he'd had half a hard-boiled egg, a piece of toast and something that might have been oatmeal, but which tasted like the kind of glue he'd used in kindergarten to make all those cards for his mom. Lunch had been mystery meat sandwiches and a packet of chips. He was going to be in so much trouble with Mark once he got out of this place, because all his clothes would probably need to be refitted. Jensen likely wouldn't want him any more because he'd be so horribly emaciated, and that was always supposing he wasn't shunned for dealing drugs.

Jensen must have decided he was guilty, and that was why he hadn't been to visit him. No smoke without fire, right? Jared really couldn't blame him. He'd found himself half believing the cop who'd presented the charges to the judge.

Flinging himself down on the hard cot in the corner, Jared felt his nose turning red as he held back the tears that were burning behind his eyelids. How the hell had he gotten himself into this position? More to the point, how the hell was he ever going to get himself out of it again?  


~0~

Danneel had barely gotten Katie’s paperwork squared away when Aldis burst into her office exclaiming, “You’ll never believe what just happened!”

She felt a momentary twinge of guilt that she hadn’t even thought about Aldis since she’d gotten up that morning, but she brushed it aside and answered, “Your drug bust turn up something exciting?”

“Drug bust?” Jensen ran into her office, clearly having overheard at least part of their conversation. “Does this have anything to do with Jared, or why the press might think he’s involved in drug trafficking?”

“I didn’t think so,” Aldis answered. “But now I’m not so sure. I’ve been working on this story about a drug trafficking ring operating in fashion circles for over a year now. That’s how I knew who Misha was when he targeted Addie.”

“I thought all that was over when Misha fell,” said Jensen. “But I guess that was too much to hope for.”

“Misha was never the big fish,” Aldis explained. “I knew there was much more to it than that. I just didn’t expect it to concern you all again.”

“But now you think it does,” Danneel said, almost but not quite a question.

“Yes,” Aldis confirmed. “Matt gave me a list of people who might’ve had access to Jared’s things at the theater. I’ve been keeping tabs on them, and one of them was just arrested in a drug sting, along with one of the goons that helped Misha grab Addie, and a bigwig lawyer that hadn’t been on my radar before.”

“That does sound like the two cases are likely related,” Mark said from the doorway. “Any idea what the connection might be?”

“Not yet,” admitted Aldis. “I’ve been trying to follow this investigation to the top, but it’s a slow process. When we find out either who’s responsible for framing Jared or who’s running the drug ring, maybe we'll be able to see a connection.”

“Then tell us what you have so far,” Jensen said firmly. Danneel could tell from his voice that he was at least slightly distracted by the puzzle.

“Umm, okay,” Aldis answered, clearly reluctant, at least to Danneel. “I’ll tell you what I can, all right?”

“Aldis!” Danneel cut in sharply. “We’re not going to steal your scoop or out any of your sources! We’re just trying to learn what we can to help Jared.”

“I know,” Aldis agreed, sighing. “Old habits die hard, I guess.”

“Thank you,” Danneel said, then gestured to Mark who was still standing in the doorway. “You may as well come in and join us. Who wants whisky?”

Aldis and Mark sat in the guest chairs in front of her desk while Jensen perched on the edge of it. Danneel filled four tumblers and passed them around, then dragged her desk chair around next to Aldis and sat down.

“So, you guys know about Misha,” Aldis started. “But he just ran the drug operation that targeted those in the fashion industry, mainly models. That’s where I found out about it. But he wasn’t calling the shots, and I’m sure there were other vectors for the drug trade, as well as guns and sex. I didn’t find out much about that, but enough to know there was a lot of it.

“Anyway,” Aldis continued, then paused to take a sip of his whisky. “Please keep all of this to yourselves. If this next part gets out, people’s lives—friends of mine, maybe even our own—would be in danger.”

“Of course,” Danneel reassured him, and all the others nodded soberly in agreement.

“Dirty cops,” Aldis blurted out suddenly, then continued more easily. “One of my sources is a detective, and I’ve been helping him figure out who was dirty. One of my other sources is a driver for them, and he knew about the delivery tonight. I asked him to call in a tip, and sure enough, the information that came down was the wrong location. It wasn’t the first time that had happened, but this time my detective friend got them to stake out both locations. When the drop happened in the alternate location, there was a shouting match among the police there. The deputy chief stepped in and put several of them on administrative leave, including a lieutenant and my detective friend’s partner. It was all pretty confusing, and I’m not even sure the deputy chief isn’t in on it. Gabe and I will have to sort it all out later.”

“This is all very interesting,” Jensen commented. Danneel could tell he was getting impatient, but she doubted anyone else could. “And I get why you didn’t want to tell us about it, but what does this have to do with Jared?”

“When Sterling and I went to Matt’s to check out the van, Matt gave me a list of people who had access to Jared’s script at the theater. One of those people was Jared’s understudy in the play, Alex Calvert. So I’d been keeping an eye on him, but I was completely surprised when he showed up in the middle of the drug bust.”

“But none of this makes any sense,” Mark said quizzically. “What would some criminal enterprise expect to accomplish by setting up Jared?”

“I have no idea,” Aldis admitted. “But I’m hoping once we find out who’s behind either thing, we can find the answer to that very question. And maybe even learn who’s been sabotaging your business.”

“Unless it’s just some huge coincidence,” Jensen said despondently. “Then we’re back to square one. And Jared’s still locked up in _The Tombs_.”

“No, we’re not," Aldis said reassuringly. “We know that Jared drove up here from Texas, and most of their evidence showed that Misha paid for him to fly out here. With the conflicting scenario we can prove, their case falls apart. Besides, I can feel it in my gut that all of this is related.”

“Wait!” Mark exclaimed. “So you did find proof of Jared's trip in the van?”

“We sure did, and I took pictures of everything and where we found it.”

“So, what are we waiting for?” Jensen asked excitedly.

“Slow down,” Danneel cautioned. “They’re not going to let him out on a Saturday night just because you can disprove their case. We’re going to have to wait for the hearing. Unless you have a million dollars that I don’t know about.”

“No, you’re right,” Jensen sighed. His dejected expression tore at Danneel’s heartstrings, but there was nothing she could do about it. She started plotting ways to keep Jensen distracted while he continued, “There’s no way we can afford that, even if we gave up on Milan. And Jared would kill us if we did that.”

“I’m sorry, babe,” Danneel said. “But speaking of Milan, don’t you two have work to do? Or have you fit Addie’s dresses to Katie already?”

Mark picked up on her cue and started waving his arms around, chatting about the specific alterations they would need to make to the wardrobe. Jensen gave her a sharp hug that told her that he knew exactly what she was up to. He gave Aldis a one-armed hug and a quick thank you, and then followed Mark up to the sewing room, the two of them arguing about the best way to make sure the dresses would fit perfectly.

Danneel turned back to Aldis. “You didn’t drink your whisky.”

“No,” Aldis agreed. “I’m tired and need to get out there again. Probably shouldn’t be drinking.”

“Did you get any sleep?” Danneel couldn’t help but be concerned. It would be just like Aldis not to take care of himself while he was chasing a story, and this one even more so. She knew how hard he’d been working on it, and now that it seemed to be dovetailing with everything going on at the atelier, she knew he’d put even more pressure on himself.

“No,” admitted Aldis. “But I’ll be fine. I just need to—”

“Go home and get some rest?” Danneel cut in and finished for him. “You know you’ll do better work after sleeping. And now that the drug bust happened, I’m sure there’s nothing you need to do that you can’t do after a good night’s sleep.”

“You’re right,” Aldis agreed grudgingly. “I’ll go home and catch some shut-eye. See you tomorrow?”

“I’ll just finish some stuff up here and make sure Mark was able to distract Jensen sufficiently with the designs and I’ll be home before long.” Danneel returned the kiss he gave her on his way out and returned to her paperwork, picking up where she’d left off.  


~0~

Sunday found Jensen in the waiting room at the jail. He tried to ignore the curious glances directed his way and sat waiting for his name to be called. Or maybe he was waiting to hear Jared’s name. Either way, he’d be ready. He almost wished he’d let Mark come with him, but they had a lot to do to get ready for Milan. No sense in both of them wasting a day waiting around. They’d both been distracted the night before, but in the end, they’d come up with a plan to remake Addie’s dresses to fit Katie’s slighter frame. Hopefully Mark was busy putting that plan into action at this very moment.

Truth be told, he’d wanted to do this alone, but now he was having second thoughts. He glanced around in an attempt to distract himself. The room itself was grim and utilitarian, with posters glorifying law enforcement plastered on the walls and signs everywhere itemizing the rules and detailing the consequences should anyone break them. Steel chairs with ripped vinyl cushions were bolted to the floors in rows like a hideous mockery of an airport terminal waiting room.

The other occupants of the room were no less bleak. Expressions ranged from angry to sad, nervous to blustery, but none of them seemed happy. Not that Jensen blamed them; he was feeling many of those same emotions himself. That thought set him to fretting again. If the waiting room was this depressing, what must it be like for Jared? He was so busy agonizing over the potential torments that Jared must be facing that he didn’t even notice anyone approaching, until a friendly cultured voice interrupted his thoughts.

“First time?”

“What? Oh, is it my first time here, you mean?” An immaculately dressed older woman with perfectly coiffed golden brown curls and lovely dark caramel skin approached, sitting gracefully on the chair next to him when Jensen gestured for her to join him. He smiled ruefully. “Why? Is it that obvious?”

“I’m afraid so, dear,” The woman answered with a smile of her own. “I’m June.”

“Jensen,” he replied automatically, reflexively cataloguing her clothes, noting the fine fabrics and exquisite, if somewhat old-fashioned, tailoring. She should seem completely out of place here, but her air of self-assurance would likely make her seem to be at home anywhere. “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you as well,” June responded. “Are you here to visit your brother? Your father perhaps?”

“Umm, no… :” Jensen trailed off, unsure what word to use to express everything that Jared was to him.

“Your beau then,” June nodded sagely. “Is it serious?”

Jensen nodded, distracted again by thoughts of what Jared must be going through. June’s voice snapped his attention back to the present.

“Is he guilty?” she asked.

“What? No!” Jensen said sharply. What was this woman getting at?

“And you believe in him,” June pressed, more gently.

“Yes, absolutely,” Jensen insisted. “Besides, we have proof.”

“But you didn’t need that proof, did you?”

“No, of course not,” Jensen answered again. “Why do you ask?”

“You need to tell him that,” June advised. “This place … it has a way of stealing your hope, of making you doubt yourself. Make sure he knows that you never doubted him.”

“Thank you.” Jensen said sincerely. Not only had she given him good advice, she’d given him something to think about other than fretting about Jared being locked up in this awful place.

“You’re welcome, dear,” June responded, patting him on the shoulder. “You’ll be fine.”

Just then the uniformed officer at the desk called out, “Visitor for Pada .. Pada … Padalecki?”

Jensen stood, and with a last glance at June, who smiled at him reassuringly, walked through the door the other visitors had been using all morning. He didn’t know what he’d been expecting, but it wasn’t this. If he’d found the waiting room austere, it was nothing compared to the other side of the doors. The heavy double doors opened onto a long corridor painted battleship gray. The floor was painted a charcoal gray color with garish safety yellow arrows pointing forward. With no way to go but onward, he squared his shoulders and followed the arrows.

The hallway seemed endless, with the occasional heavy door barring access to parts unknown, with seemingly random markings stenciled in the same charcoal gray as the floor that probably indicated to someone where the doors led. He passed them by without a further look and kept following the markings on the floor. It seemed really odd that he was meant to wander the halls alone, but he saw no other option. Occasionally, he’d see other visitors returning to the waiting room, and most of them didn’t even meet his eyes. He ignored them and continued on. The corridor branched off several times, and each time he followed the signs painted on the wall until he eventually reached another set of heavy double doors.

This room was equally austere. One side of the room had cameras up near the ceiling pointed at the four chairs set facing large, glass windows. Two of the chairs were occupied by women he recognized from the waiting room. They were deep in conversation on black telephones mounted on the wall between the windows. Men in orange jumpsuits sat on the other side of the glass, their own telephones in hand. Jensen tried to see Jared, but there was no sign of him, and no indication of what Jensen should do. He didn’t want to interrupt anyone’s visit, but he was at a loss.

Just when he’d decided he was going to have to ask one of the women, he noticed movement on the other side of an unoccupied window. He rushed to grab the phone next to it, and his heart broke at the sight of two burly guards shackling Jared’s ankles to the floor next to his stool. The bruises on his face were still there, and Jensen thought he was protecting his shoulder and maybe his ribs. Jensen tried to keep the wave of fury he felt from showing on his face, but wasn’t sure how successful he was.

“What did they do to you?” Jensen asked, as soon as Jared picked up his own receiver. So much for playing it cool.

“I’m fine,” Jared answered, clearly trying not to wince as he adjusted himself on his stool.

“Look at you,” Jensen countered. “You’re not fine.”

“I’ll be fine,’ Jared insisted. “And the guard said he’ll be back in ten minutes, so I’d rather not waste time talking about it. What’s going on out there?”

“You’re right, of course. I just hate seeing you in here,” Jensen agreed. “And we can prove that you shouldn’t even be here!”

“You believe me?” Jared asked hesitantly.

“Of course I believe you!” Jensen reassured him. “There was never any question. We just needed to find proof that Collins didn’t finance your trip out here so we can get you out of here. We’ve done that now. Besides, I was there when he fell off the roof. That was just as much on me as on you, and completely an accident.”

“You have proof?” asked Jared, sounding excited. “How did you manage that?”

“You left your van in Matt’s garage, and we found receipts for food and gas you got on your trip up here. With proof that you actually drove rather than taking the flights Misha paid for, their case falls apart.”

“But why did they think I was trafficking in drugs?” Jared asked. “And who would want to set me up?”

“Umm... “ Jensen hedged. Surely they wouldn’t have people listening to their conversation, but better to be safe than sorry. “We’re still working on that.”

“You’re holding out on me,” Jared said. He could always tell when Jensen didn’t want to tell him something, and usually it worked to their advantage. In this case, Jensen wasn’t sure it would.

“We don’t _know_ much more than I’ve told you,’ Jensen said, hoping that Jared would just drop it. He wasn’t sure how to convince him, but with luck, Jared would realize that he was being evasive for a reason. “Trust me, we’re working on it, and you’ll be the first to know when we do. And by that time, you’ll be home and can help us.”

“How soon do you think that will be?” Jared asked, thankfully changing the subject.

“I’m not sure,” Jensen admitted. “We’re meeting with the lawyer tomorrow, and with the new evidence, I’m sure he’ll be able to get you out really soon.”

“Good,” Jared said, showing Jensen his blinding smile for the first time since he’d been arrested. “It’s no fun in here, and they don’t feed me enough.”

“As soon as we can get you out of here, we will,” Jensen assured him. “And we’ll make sure you get plenty to eat.”

“That sounds good.” Jared smiled again. Jensen wasn’t sure if his boyfriend was trying to make him feel better or not, but it was having that effect.

“I miss you,” Jensen muttered, surprising himself. He hadn’t meant to say that. He was here to cheer Jared up, not cry on his shoulder..

“I miss you too,” Jared responded softly.

Before he could say anything else, the guard came back and directed Jared to stand with his hands behind his head, then shackled his legs back together and his hands behind his back. Jensen suppressed a whimper at the sight of Jared being treated like that, but comforted himself with the thought of Jared coming home to him soon.  


~0~

Despite having drunk a large amount of whisky the previous night, Jensen woke early, with an atrocious headache. He made his way with faltering steps to the sewing room, where he proceeded to stare owlishly at a piece of paper on which he'd written a single word. 'FUCK!'

Mark was nowhere to be seen yet, since he'd drunk even more than Jensen the night before, and when Davy had cut him off, he'd fallen asleep face down on the table. He'd still been there when Clif had arrived to drag Jensen's carcass home, which reminded him: Clif deserved a bonus. He'd been performing some cruel and unusual extra duties lately.

After a moment, he wrote Clif on the pad he was holding, to remind himself to talk to Danneel about that very thing.

Katie found him sitting slumped on the table, pad in hand, when she arrived for her fitting. When no greeting was forthcoming, she went over to peer at him, and check if he was still alive.

“Fuck Clif?” she read. “Why? What has he done?”

Jenset jumped, hastily pulling his pad of paper towards him. “No. They are separate thoughts. Nobody's going to fuck Clif. I mean why would anyone... I mean no.”

Laughing, Katie studied the dejected man, and then nodded to herself. Dumping her coat and purse, she headed off down to the kitchen to make coffee. It wouldn't cure the red eyeballs and the depression, but it might help reduce the hangover.

Returning a few minutes later, armed with the carafe of coffee and a bottle of Tylenol extra strength, she set about medicating her new employer.

Shuffling on the stairs heralded Mark's approach, and one look at him told her that he was in a very similar state to Jensen. Pouring a mug for him and shaking out another couple of pills, she prepared herself for whatever the day would bring.

“You two look like you could do with a couple more hours of sleep,” she said, and Mark nodded glumly.

“Davy wouldn't let me. Said it's my own fault and what I deserve.”

“Too right!” Aisha had come up the stairs and stood surveying the two men, arms folded as she took in the sight. “God, Mark, your eyes look like poached eggs floating in a sea of tomato ketchup.”

Jensen laughed and then moaned a little as the sound pierced his skull. Mark merely shot Aisha a hate-filled glare and slumped back into his chair.

Apparently the Tylenol—or maybe the coffee—began to work, because after a while Mark managed to straighten up and get Katie ready to try fitting the silk that Lieutenant Fuller had made such a mess of. By late morning, he had it all pinned ready to sew, much to his satisfaction.

“Fortunately, you're slimmer than Addie,” he murmured, patting Katie on her head as if she'd done something really clever. “I don't think it will need to be totally re-cut.”

“I guess that's one good thing,” muttered Jensen, who was sketching out the design for the jumpsuit that Danneel had suggested. Nobody looked up when Danneel came up the stairs to ask who was going to the meeting with Jared's lawyer.

Mark, still looking somewhat pale, elected to stay and work, but mentioned that David wanted to go. Nodding, Jensen rose to his feet and followed Danneel back down the stairs to where Aldis stood waiting.

As they were making their way out to the parking lot behind the atelier, David pulled up in his Porsche Cayenne and invited them to hop in. Jensen elected to ride shotgun, because he said that Danni and Aldis wanted to snuggle, but his perfidy was soon revealed when he curled up with his head against the window and began to snore a moment later.

As David threaded his way through the traffic, Jensen was jolted out of his precious sleep by the shrilling of his phone. He fumbled with it and finally succeeded in answering it just before it went to voicemail. Matt's voice made him sit up straight.

“Jensen? That kid, Alex, who we think framed Jared?”

“Yeah. Just a minute.” Jensen was suddenly wide awake. He put his phone on speaker and alerted Aldis, who was most definitely snuggling with Danneel. “Okay. Go ahead. Aldis and Danni are here too.”

“Hey, Aldis, I'd have called you, but I didn't have your number. Just wanted to let you know that I just saw Alex Calvert breeze into the theater. He must have been bailed out by someone. I was going to go see what I could find out from him.”

“Sounds good,” said Aldis. “If we find out who bailed him out, it might lead us up the chain to where the decisions are made. I don't suppose you could find out if that lawyer dude, Morgan, is out on the street too, could you? I mean if the conversation takes you that way. Otherwise I'll have to go pester the clerk of the court.”

“I'll do what I can,” said Matt.

“Keep in touch, man,” Jensen said. “We're on our way to meet with James, and anything you get for us will be much appreciated.”

“You got it. Talk at you later.” Matt muttered a goodbye and was gone. There was little further opportunity for sleep as David pulled into the underground parking and backed into a stall labeled ‘visitors’. Sighing, Jensen hauled himself out of the car and joined Danneel and David.

“Aldis will be along in a few minutes,” said Danneel. “He's just on the phone to the clerk of the court right now. He thought it would be a good idea to see if that Alex kid used a bail bondsman or if he was bailed out by someone who's part of the cartel. Go on up. I'll wait for him, and we'll see you upstairs.”

David nodded and took Jensen's arm, walking him over to the elevator. “I knew that Mark would be in no fit state to wrangle you after taking one look at him this morning, so I figured I'd do the honors. I do hope you don't feel as bad as Mark looked, though. He's not usually like that.”

“No, he isn't,” croaked Jensen. “Neither am I, usually, but he... Jared, he was covered in bruises, and he's so damned hungry. He's gonna die if he has to stay there for any length of time.”

“Well, that's why we're here, so let's go see what James has to say.” Stepping into the elevator, they allowed it to whisk them up to the tenth floor.

They were greeted by the very pretty lady they'd met before, and whose name turned out to be Julie. She showed them into James's office and served them coffee before returning to her post at reception. Sterling was already there, and greeted them cheerfully.

“James will be along in just a minute. He was meeting with the DA about Jared and it ran long, but that's a good sign.”

At that point, Aldis and Danneel arrived, followed almost immediately by James himself, carrying a heavy looking briefcase, and as they all settled down, James took out a bulky folder and gave Jensen an encouraging smile.

“I do apologize for not being here when you arrived, but I was detained in a meeting about your case by the District Attorney, Mr. Sheppard.” He took a deep breath and held up his folder. “Can I just say that he's not very impressed by the police work that's been done on this case. When I showed him our accumulated evidence, he agreed with me that there's something underhanded going on. He feels as I do, that the case needs to be dismissed, but further, that there should be a complete investigation into where the false information came from. Sadly, the young man who we believe fabricated the evidence was allowed bail this morning, and so far we haven't been able to locate him. Once we do, I believe we'll have some answers.”

“If it's any help, Matt called me about fifteen minutes ago, and told us the Calvert kid is at the theater,” said Jensen.

Sterling rose to his feet. “I think I'll go have a word with him.” He grinned. “It's much too nice a day to be stuck in an office.”

“That would be very helpful.” James smiled as Sterling left the office and then turned back to Jensen. “The DA has mounted his own investigation and was very grateful that we didn't just wait for this to blow up in front of Judge Smith. She would have been... let's say less than happy with all of us. As it is, I think we'll be able to get your Jared released by tomorrow at the latest. I'm hoping to hear from the court that the judge will see the two of us today, but if she doesn't have time this afternoon, it'll need to be tomorrow.”

Jensen shivered. James's words seemed to echo around him. Jared would be coming home to him tomorrow at the latest. He felt the backs of his eyes sting as tears pricked at them, and he covered his face swiftly, not wanting to look like a complete idiot. Because of this, he didn't actually hear what Aldis was telling James, and was taken by surprise when Danneel rose to her feet and yelled something he was fairly certain was extremely vulgar. When he looked up, he could see both James and David gaping at her, mouths open.

He was about to ask what the hell was going on, when his phone shrilled a second time. Peering at it, he saw that it was Matt again. He felt as if somewhere during the morning his poor abused brain had jumped the rails and was in the process of entering La-La Land.

Shrugging, he mumbled, “Excuse me,” and answered the call.

“Jensen?” Matt sounded truly panicked. “Jensen, he's been shot.”

“What? Who?” Yep, he was slipping his cogs. He was sure of that now. “Who's been shot?” A thought suddenly occurred to him, “God! Not Jared. Please tell me not Jared.”

“Good Grief, no. Alex Calvert. The kid who framed Jared.” Matt must have realized he was shouting, because he suddenly quietened. “I was talking to him, and all of a sudden there was a pop and... He's dead.”

“Who shot him? Did they catch the person who shot him?” Jensen shook his head, trying to make the pieces fit into a cohesive picture of what was going on. He failed.

“It was a woman. Giancarlo, the stage manager, saw it happen. He said she was blonde.”

There was a pause, and Jensen could hear police sirens in the background. “Did the kid... Alex, did he say anything before he was killed?”

“Not really. He said his boss bailed him out, and that he was fine, but that was all we had time for.” Matt paused again and then came back on the line. “Sterling just got here. Look, I'll talk to you later, okay?”

“Okay,” said Jensen, feebly. Turning back to the others, who had apparently been frozen in attitudes of astonishment, he gave them a dorky little wave, but suddenly realized what he was doing and dropped his hand in favor of shrugging. “The guy at the theater. Matt says he's dead.”

“Wait a minute. He just got out of jail. How is he dead?” David appeared to be the first to recover, but the others all seemed to agree that this was the right question for the moment. Jensen frowned. This wasn't doing his headache any good at all.

“Apparently some woman with blonde hair shot him.” Jensen tried to think if there had been anything further. “He didn't say much more than that, because I think he was in shock, but he did say Sterling was there, so I guess we'll hear a bit more detail from him.”

Sure enough, at that moment, James's phone announced a call, and he flipped it on, telling them quickly that it was Sterling on the line. He really didn't have much more to add, other than Matt was being treated for shock, because he'd been in the middle of a conversation with the dead man when he was killed.

“It doesn't matter,” said Danneel, and from the way she was clenching her jaw, Jensen knew that something had angered her. “We know who it was that bailed him out this morning. She's the one that's organizing all of this.”

“I don't get it.” Jensen frowned at her. “Was there a big reveal? If so, I must've missed it.”

“Ruth Connell. It's Ruth. She's the one that's been trying to screw up your chances, Jen. She's the one that poached Addie from us, and I bet she's the one who's been fucking up our orders. Does this mean she's involved in the drug trade? But she's supposed to be running this charity to keep kids off them.” Her voice trailed away. “That means she's screwing with Addie too,” she whispered.

James cut in at that point. “I suspect that the DA will be looking into this, especially since it seems as if there is almost certainly the possibility of police corruption involved. What's happened to Jared may be unpleasant, but it's actually revealed a situation that was unknown until now.”

He would've gone on, but at that moment, the phone on his desk shrilled, and he rose to his feet to go answer it. As he did so, David stood up too. “Okay, I think we should let the man work. There's nothing more we can do here.”

Nodding, Danneel got up too and went to grab Jensen's arm. “Come on, Jen. We need to go confer with Mark. James has got everything under control here, and we can't do anything else to help Jared.”

They filed out of the office, raising their hands in goodbye to James, who was busily entering details of some kind into his phone.  


~0~

“That's awfully tight, Mark. I'll set out now, but I may be a couple of minutes late. Depends on the traffic. Talk to you face to face very shortly, okay?” James threw the phone down, grabbed his briefcase and took off running.  
A few minutes later, James rushed up to where Mark Sheppard was waiting for him outside Judge Smith's chambers.

“I see you made it, then,” smirked Sheppard. “I figured you'd be at least ten minutes late at this time of day. She seems to be in an excellent mood right now though, so let's get in there and confess all our sins, shall we?”

“Speak for yourself, you shyster! I don't have any sins to confess!” James ran his fingers through his hair, hoping that he didn't look too sweaty. “I didn't drive. I ran. Faster.”

“Good call,” murmured Mark. “Just don't pass out on the judge from exhaustion, and we'll be fine.” So saying, he tapped on the door to the judge's chambers and at the summons to enter led the way inside.

Judge Samantha Smith raised her eyebrows as the two of them filed in. “Gentlemen? What can I do for you?”

James nodded to Mark, who sighed, took a deep breath and began to lay out the evidence of Jared's framing and arrest, leading into the discovery of extreme corruption within the police department.

“Oh, for heavens' sake,” growled the judge as Mark's presentation came to a close. “I'm going to have to take this to the mayor. He'll want to set up an inquiry, but as far as this Mr. Padalecki is concerned, it does look as if he's been framed, doesn't it?”

“Yes, Ma'am.” James nodded. “And the person who we are sure framed him was shot and killed this morning, twenty five minutes after being released on bail. I'm guessing that was so he couldn't be questioned.”

The judge's eyes opened wide. “Seriously?” She covered her face with her hand for a moment and then began to write furiously. “I will release Mr. Padalecki immediately, but if you would be so kind as to wait, I must call the mayor and set the ball rolling on this.”  


~0~

It was close to 3pm when David pulled his Porsche into the yard behind the House of Ackles and he and Jared stepped out into the watery sunshine.

“Come on, Jailbird,” said David with a grin. “Let's go see if Jensen passes out when he sees you.”

They didn't get as far as the sewing room. Danneel spotted them from the door of the office, screamed and then climbed Jared as if she were a monkey in order to grab both his ears and kiss him all over his face. He was busily protesting that he needed a shower, while David fell about laughing, when first Mark and then Jensen emerged from the sewing room.

Jensen's shriek rivaled Danneel's and brought both of the girls to the door, while only Mark's grip on the back of Jensen's shirt prevented him from flinging himself bodily down the stairs. Jared, who realized that his protestations weren't getting through, gave them a dorky little wave as he waited for either common sense or gravity to set him free.

By the time Danneel had released him, both Jensen and Mark had reached him, followed closely by Aisha. Katie, who had never met Jared until now was a little more reserved, but stayed close, hoping that someone would introduce her to this amazingly sexy man. It was David who slid an arm around her and murmured, “Sorry, love, he's taken.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she said, shrugging. “They always are. Who does he belong to? Danneel? Lucky bitch!”

“No, darlin', he's Jensen's.”

“God, is everyone in this company gay?” Katie smirked. “Not, as they say, that there's anything wrong with that, just, give a girl a chance, okay.”

Aisha had come over to stand with them. “Don't worry, Katie. Just wait for Milan! I'm looking for a hot Italian to show me the sights.”

Meanwhile, Jensen, who had been standing silently, finally broke, reaching for Jared and pulling him forward to wrap him up in his arms, lifting his face for a kiss.

In a matter of seconds the others had melted away leaving them alone, locked in an embrace that spoke of relief, love and need. As they slowly pulled back, a slow tear trickled down Jensen's cheek. “I don't know why I'm crying,” he whispered.

“I guess you thought you were rid of me for good, and now…” Jared smiled, his dimples popping. “Am I on the right tack?” He pressed a kiss to Jensen's forehead. “Or is it just because of my body odor? I really _really_ need a shower!”

“Yeah,” agreed Jensen, sniffling. “Both of the above.” He sniffed again and then coughed. “Especially the part about needing a shower. Come on!” He grabbed hold of Jared's hand and towed him along as he made for the stairs and their apartment, laughing and crying at the same time.

Even before they were safely behind the apartment door, Jensen was pulling at Jared's clothes, leaving a trail of jacket, shirt and t-shirt on the stairs as they ascended. By the time they tumbled through the door itself, he was pulling Jared's belt free from the loops that held it and tossing it over his shoulder to lie forgotten on the floor.

"Hey! Hold up a minute." Jared was pushed back against the door by Jensen, who had pushed his hands down when he went to steal another kiss. "What're you doing?"

“I'm counting bruises,” said Jensen through gritted teeth. “I'm counting them all, and I'm going to photograph them all, and then I'm going to sue the ass off the bastards who gave them to you.”

“Okay,” Jared held his hands up in a placatory gesture. “That sounds awesome. Can I have a shower before the photography part? I really, really _really_ need one.”

The bruises on Jared's face were fading now, purple and orange instead of the midnight blue that he'd been wearing during his arraignment, but there were what appeared to be finger bruises around his neck, and his right arm sported a huge blue bruise from shoulder to elbow.

“What the fuck?” Jensen ran his fingertips over Jared's neck, and Jared winced, more at Jensen's angry expression than at any pain.

“Some big asshole decided that he wanted my dinner,” said Jared. “We had a bit of a discussion about it, but I wanted it. I was hungry.” He laughed. “The arm is from the guard and his.nightstick. He didn't think I should be sitting on the asshole during meal break.”

“Oh, my God! They didn't put you in solitary like they do in the movies?” Jensen sounded horrified.

“No.” Jared smirked. “They came to get me and release me just then, so I'm ahead of the curve.”

Having examined the rest of Jared's body minutely, and pressed kisses to places he figured might need them, Jensen finally allowed Jared to move, and snuggled into his long-suffering lover's arms.

Pressing his face into the space between Jared's neck and shoulder, it struck Jensen again just how warm Jared was, how smooth his skin. He nuzzled there, the soft prickles of his scruff making Jared draw in a tiny, gasping breath. Jared's scent, earthy and strong, flooded his senses, and filled him with need. He thought he might have growled, but Jared pulled him out of his reverie with a brief laugh and a sudden move away from his embrace.

“I'm all in favor of cave man tactics, but I really need to shower, and maybe even have a shave, if you can wait long enough.” So saying, Jared headed for the bathroom, toeing off his shoes as he went. Jensen watched him go and then, galvanized into action, threw off his own clothing and followed behind, just in time to step in under the spray behind his love.

Grabbing hold of the shampoo, he filled his hand and began to wash Jared's hair, allowing the foam to squish between his fingers as he massaged. His hands traveled down over Jared's body, applying soap in liberal quantities all over the firm, silky skin.

Jared sank into the feeling, sighing softly and opening his limbs up to the kneading fingers. “God, help me wash that place off me. I feel so dirty.”

“Trust me, baby,” said Jensen, voice husky as he pressed the heel of his hand over Jared's chest and rubbed, feeling the flat of Jared's sternum and below it the steady beat of his heart as he tried to massage away any lingering pain from his ordeal. “Let me make you feel better.”

His hands moved lower, soaping up Jared's belly, down to his thighs and the thick, heavy cock that was beginning to show interest, filling in jumpy little surges. He slid his hand up and down, listening to the little cries Jared made, drinking them down like wine as he smoothed over it, reached lower to smooth over his balls. As Jared gasped, Jensen's soapy fingers slipped past his needy cock and lower, until it was pressed firmly against the hot, hidden flesh of his hole.

That made Jared whine and say something about how far he's already gone. Jensen pushed a soapy finger into him, working it past the furled opening. Jared spread for him, legs wide and muscles surrendering, and Jensen followed up with first one, then two more fingers. That made Jared cry out and sent a flood of want to curl down into Jensen's groin. As Jared leant forward to place his palms against the tile, Jensen reached with his free hand to stroke himself, lathering up his cock ready for action.

Gazing at the long, smooth expanse of Jared's back, he felt like a kid with all the ice cream in the world. This was his, this perfect body, and there would never be a better aphrodisiac than watching Jared, desperate and writhing on Jensen's fingertips. Jensen wanted to take him, maul his mouth and own him utterly, but he also wanted this moment to last forever.

Jared's cry of, “Goddammit, Jensen, I need…” caused him to rethink lasting forever and he petted one of Jared's ass cheeks as he took a deep breath, ready all of a sudden for action.

“‘S okay, Jay, I gotcha,” he murmured and set the swollen crown of his cock against Jared's puffy rim. He wanted to tease, pushing in a little to feel the heat and then pulling back, feeling the suction from Jared's hole as it clung, but Jared derailed that plan, shoving back suddenly to take him in, his whole cock swallowed into wanton heat pulling Jensen's thoughts apart piece by piece with the rhythm of desperately plunging hips.

Jensen bit at Jared's shoulder, licked away the sting and felt flickering passion coiling low in his gut as the tendrils of ecstasy wrapped around him from balls to spine, oiled silk and razor wire shredding what little resistance he had left.

Reaching for Jared's dick, he squeezed, desperate for Jared to get off with him. He could tell that it wouldn't be long. Jared was spasming, shaking as if he couldn't stand it, couldn't cope with the sweetness, his head thrown back in an arch over Jesen's shoulder as he bit his lip and moaned.

When he came, it seemed to Jensen as if every part of Jared was locked up tight, and his ass contracted over Jensen's dick, pulsing, dragging the pleasure out of Jensen, milking him as the movement tried to steal his vision.

They were motionless for a moment or two, lost in the glowing embers of the fire that had burned so hotly between them, and when Jensen's soft length finally slipped free, Jared turned to face him, taking kiss after kiss as they slowly remembered how to breathe.

“Do you feel better now?”

“Much!” Turning off the shower, Jared tugged at Jensen, reaching for towels and beginning to wrap one around both of them at once. “Food now?” he asked with a grin.

Laughing, Jensen nodded. “Yeah. We'll feed you, you poor starving boy. Mark would kill us both if he had to resize all the clothes for you as well as for Katie.”  


~0~

In spite of his insistence on eating immediately, Jared ignored the gnawing pit his stomach had turned into as long as he could in favor of basking in the afterglow. But he could only prolong the process of towelling off and getting dressed so long. Besides, he really was very hungry.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to see everyone, it was just that he didn’t quite know how to act. He really wished he could just undo everything that had happened and everything would be just like it had always been. Of course, he couldn’t do that, and getting back to his life could never be that simple. There would always be the time before he was arrested and thrown in jail on suspicion of having murdered someone, and the time after. But the last thing that he wanted to do was worry anyone, especially Jensen. Or Danneel, or Mark. And he was back to not wanting to worry any of them. He just wished things could magically go back to normal, but he knew that life didn’t work that way.

In any case, he didn’t have much choice about facing everyone if he wanted to eat. They didn’t keep much food in their apartment; the kitchenette was tiny and there wasn’t much point with the big communal kitchen downstairs. His mouth started watering as soon as they reached the ground floor and Jared followed his nose out back. They didn’t grill often since it was a lot of trouble to find another place for the van, but Jensen had splurged on a fancy grill soon after Jared had moved in. Now Clif was manning the grill, and Jared found himself with a plate full of food as soon as he reached the parking pad.

He pulled out one of the folding chairs they used for these and dug into his plate piled high with succulent steak cooked just how he liked it, a loaded baked potato, grilled asparagus spears, corn on the cob, and a roll fresh from the oven. Whenever anyone asked how he was, he kept nodding and gesturing toward his plate until everyone finally left him alone. He brushed off their questions about his bumps and bruises the same way. By the time he’d taken the edge off his voracious appetite, the conversation had returned to the topic at hand. Unsurprisingly, it was all about his situation and he found himself distracted from even the excellent meal in front of him.

“So, you guys were saying Ruth Connell was the one that paid for Alex's bail?” Jensen was saying. “I was on the phone and never caught what happened with that. And then Alex was shot and Jared came home, and I got distracted.”

“Wait!” interrupted Jared. Jensen, who was leaning against a railing next to Jared’s chair, squeezed his shoulder, evidently still making sure he was actually there and Jared leaned into Jensen’s touch as he continued his interjection. “Alex was shot? The kid who took over my part in Matt’s play for me? How is he involved?”

“We’re not 100% sure, but it looks like he’s the most likely one to have had access to your script where the evidence to frame you was planted,” answered Aldis. “But before I could talk to him, some blonde woman shot him. No-one at the theater recognized her or knew how she could have gotten in.”

“Alex framed me,” Jared repeated, stunned. “And now he’s dead?”

“It appears so,” Aldis continued, more gently this time. “We’re still trying to piece together a motive, for that and for all the other things that have been going on. I didn’t get a chance to talk to him, and Matt didn’t get much out of him before he was shot, so—”

“Matt was there when he was shot?” Jared interrupted with alarm. “Is he okay?”

‘Yeah,” Aldis stammered. “I mean, he was in shock, but he’s better now.”

“Let’s slow down,” Danneel interjected smoothly. “A lot has happened in the last few days, and you clearly had the worst of it. We’ve been processing all the shocks as they happened, and you didn’t have the chance for that. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Jared reassured them all. Jensen squeezed Jared’s shoulder even harder and Jared turned to his boyfriend to insist. “It’s just a lot. It’s not like we were friends or anything, but I did work with the guy. And Matt worked with him a lot longer.”

“Okay.” Jensen nodded. “Just let us know if we need to slow down or back up.”

“I’m fine. You don’t need to coddle me,” Jared insisted again then turned back to the group. “So, Alex was the one who set me up, and now he’s dead. What else do we know?”

Aldis glanced at Danneel for a moment, then picked up the story. “I’ll back up. I forgot you weren’t here earlier.”

Everyone mumbled their assent to his suggestion, and Jared looked to his plate, only to discover it was empty. He really didn’t have room for more, anyway, so he set the plate aside. No sooner had he set it down, when he found another, smaller plate in his hands with a huge slice of what looked suspiciously like his favorite cheesecake. He took a bite, and the buttery pecan crust, creamy cheesecake and slightly tart strawberry compote all melded in his mouth to form that unmistakable flavor. “This is from Del Frisco’s, isn’t it?”

“It is,” Mark agreed, smiling at his reaction. “We wanted to go there to celebrate, but decided we’d be better off staying here tonight. Felix did make me promise we’d come for dinner before we head off to Milan.”

“This is absolutely as good as I remember it,” Jared said, moaning at the delicious taste and gesturing at his plate with his fork. “But don’t let me interrupt you, Aldis, you were saying?”

“Remember when we started looking into Misha? And I said that I’d been investigating him for a while?” Aldis asked. They all nodded and he continued. “Well, I knew Misha wasn’t the drug kingpin, but I didn’t know who was. Still don’t, for sure, but anyway, I kept looking into it. The whole thing kept getting bigger and bigger, with more and more tendrils—drugs, guns, dirty cops, you name it—but I never expected it to involve you guys again. Until Alex showed up at the sting my cop buddy set up to catch the dirty cops.”

“Whoa! Back up again,” Jared interrupted, suddenly confused once more. “I thought Alex set me up, and now he’s a drug dealer?”

”I think he was just a mule,” Aldis corrected. Danneel smacked him on the arm, and he apologized and then proceeded to answer Jared’s question. “He was at the top of the list of suspects who had access to your things to frame you. We hadn’t had a chance to talk to him before he turned up at the sting and got arrested. And the evidence they planted to frame you ties them to Misha. I’m sure they’re connected. Way too many coincidences, and I’ve learned to trust my instincts about things like this.”

“So, to recap,” Jared ticked the points off on his fingers, trying to get it all straight in his head. At least they’d been busy while he’d been stuck in jail. “We think Alex is a drug mule who set me up for murder and then got himself shot for his trouble. What else do we know?”

“I guess the biggest thing besides that is that Ruth Connell bailed Alex out of jail,” Aldis continued. “He went back to the theater, and Matt was trying to see what he could find out when a young blonde woman shot him and took off before anyone could catch her. Giancarlo has an appointment with a sketch artist in the morning, but I think Ruth will be our biggest lead.”

“How did we find out Ruth was the one who bailed him out anyway?” Jensen asked, sounding almost as confused as Jared felt. “I must have missed something.”

“Oh, that’s right,” Danneel said. “You were on the phone with Matt. Aldis found out from someone at the Court Clerk’s office.”

“She owed me a favor.” Aldis shrugged sheepishly.

“Okay,” Jensen nodded in acceptance, then shook his head vigorously. “But why would Ruth set Jared up?”

“Really Jensen?” Danneel sighed. “You know the two of you didn’t part on good terms when you left her design shop.”

“But that was just business!” Jensen protested. “You really think she would hurt Jared to get back at me over a business misunderstanding?”  
  
“I really do. She’s petty and has an overinflated sense of her own importance,” Danneel answered. “You spurned her advances, and you told her that her designs were ugly and uncomfortable, and that she’d have to triple your compensation to get you to wear them anymore.”  
  
“I did say that,” Jensen admitted. “But only after she’d treated me like a piece of meat for three years.”  
  
“Nevertheless,” Danneel said. “I always expected she’d come after us once we were successful. It makes sense, because she would have the access to mess with our supply chains and deliveries. And she poached Addie!”  
  
“Who is this woman?” Jared asked, as their conversation jogged his memory. “There was a woman called Ruth lording it over everyone at the theater. I don’t suppose she could be the same person though.”  
  
“What did she look like?” Aldis asked eagerly. “Did you ever meet her?”  
  
“Oh, sure,” Jared answered. “She was always around the theater. I think she was a patron or something. She’s a tiny redhead with a Scottish accent.”  
  
“That’s her!” Aldis exclaimed. “Maybe that’s where she ran into Alex.”  
  
“Probably so.” Jared shrugged. He wasn’t sure what the significance of her being at the theater might be. But he still didn’t have all the pieces. “Why do you think she’s involved in the drugs?”  
  
“Because he was arrested for drugs, not for setting you up,” Aldis answered. “And then she bailed him out of jail, and likely had him shot. No way would she do that if his association with her was only about the frame job against you. She had no reason to think any of us suspected that either of them were involved. I’m convinced she needed to silence him about the drugs.”  
  
“That’s diabolical! I knew she was an egotistical shrew, but this is evil!” Jensen exclaimed, shuddering. It was Jared’s turn to want to comfort Jensen, but tugging his boyfriend into his arms would probably derail the conversation, and the pieces were just starting to fit together. He settled for patting Jensen’s knee lamely. Fortunately, Jensen seemed to appreciate the touch and patted his shoulder again.  
  
“This is all starting to make sense,” Jared said. “But it’s all still just a lot of circumstantial evidence at this point. What’s our next move?”  
  
“I’m not sure,” Aldis admitted. “I guess I’ll talk to my contact on the force tomorrow. We can compare notes and—”  
  
Suddenly, a crash from upstairs drew their attention to the third floor window where the atelier was located. Jared was through the door just behind Jensen and Aldis. He saw Jensen out of the corner of his eye, racing up the stairs to save his workroom, but most of his attention was on the dark-clad figure making for the door. Jared ran after him with Aldis on his heels. Mark followed Jensen up the stairs, calling out for David to call James.  
  
The double glass doors slowed the figure enough for Jared to catch him just as he reached the sidewalk. He grabbed the intruder by the shoulder, spun him around, and punched him in the face. Aldis reached for the figure’s ski mask, and gasped as he pulled it free.  
  
“Lindberg?” Aldis said, clearly stunned at this new development. Jared wondered who this Lindberg guy might be, and how he fit into the puzzle. Apparently they hadn’t quite pieced _everything_ together yet.  
  
“Okay,” growled Jared, putting one large foot on the chest of the downed marauder and folding his arms across his chest. “So you know who this guy is. Care to share with the class?”  
  
“He's a cop,” answered Aldis, shortly, as he bent to pick up the ski mask. “And before you ask, we should get him inside and find out just what the hell he's doing here in his fucking ninja suit.”  
  
Jared said nothing further, merely nodded and bent to gather up the dazed man, slinging him across his shoulder with no care at all about his comfort. Pushing his way through the double doors after Aldis, he managed to smack his captive's head against one of the doors as it swung closed.  
  
There was a sound like a car backfiring as he turned the corner to take the stairs, and seconds later the glass from one of the doors exploded inwards. Clif, who was busy in the kitchen with the aftermath of their meal, came rushing out to see what was going on and took off out the door, swearing venomously.  
  
As Jared entered the sewing room, he was horrified at the scene that unfolded before him. Jensen was wielding the fire extinguisher to put out a fire from what appeared to be a pile of fabric and plastic. There really wasn't anything recognizable left in the heap of char, but Jared knew that there had been a dress form with a silk gown there earlier. Now, there were charred remnants and melted plastic. The ceiling bore scorch marks that testified to the earlier conflagration, and Jensen looked devastated.  
  
Mark, meanwhile, was busily throwing open all the windows, yelling something about hydrogen cyanide and the fact that burnt silk gave off cyanide fumes. David was still on the phone, but had come up the stairs, presumably to see what was going on. Jared unceremoniously dumped his now struggling burden onto the floor and wondered what the hell was happening.  
  
“What the hell?” Jensen set his fire extinguisher down on his desk and turned to study the groaning man Jared had just tossed to the ground.  
  
“This is the person who caused all the damage. Aldis says he's a cop. I thought you'd like to ask him a few questions.” Jared stood over him, ensuring that he didn't get away, and after a few minutes on the phone, Aldis himself came to join him. "I just called the police."  
  
“Hold that thought.” David had finished his phone call. “Sterling will be here in ten. Better not do anything ourselves, or we might find ourselves in jail all over again.”  
  
“I want to know what a cop's doing in my building, setting fire to everything in sight.” Jensen turned to face Lindberg. “So tell me, were you trying to kill us all or what?”  
  
Lindberg had sat up, and now huddled dejectedly. “My orders were to destroy your collection,” he said.  
  
“Well, you failed.” Mark had joined them and looked like thunder. “Who ordered you to do that?”  
  
“And why?” added Jensen.  
  
“The orders came from upstairs. That's all I know.” Lindberg hung his head. “You weren't supposed to be here.”  
  
“So your aim was to burn down my business?” Jensen spoke in the soft voice of someone on the brink of extreme violence, and Lindberg shuffled back on his behind, looking to get behind someone who would protect him.  
  
“Leave him!” It was David who stepped forward to stop Jensen applying his boot to the terrified cop. “Don't jeopardize your chance of successfully prosecuting him.”  
  
Jensen nodded, jerking himself away from Lindberg. Jared had gone to find a broom and a sack to clear away the burnt items on the floor, and was about to sweep up the debris. Muttering to himself, Jensen turned to tell him to stop, because the mess was evidence, while Aldis ended his phone call abruptly and announced that he would be back shortly.  
  
“Get some photographs. It's all evidence,” Jensen said, pulling out his phone to do just that. “Best to wait for Sterling before we start getting rid of the wreckage.”  
  
Mark had rummaged through his drawer and now came across with a package of zip ties, which he used to secure Lindberg to the huge industrial serger. “I'm going to go check on the collection,” he announced and disappeared through into the back room where all the designs were stored.  
  
“I guess you guys are handling this, now,” said David with a smile. “I'll say sayonara for now and go back to the bar before the staff decide to hold happy hour without me.”  
  
“Thank you for your help today,” said Jensen, who was gazing forlornly at the mess on his hardwood floor. “I can't believe that someone actually wanted to burn my business to the ground.” He raised his hand as David went to the stairs, but it was fairly obvious that he was distracted by the mess. “Sorry, Jay, it was supposed to be a happy day. Guess it didn't quite work out.”  
  
“Hey, listen!” Jared dropped his broom and pulled Jensen close. “There was very little harm done, and that meal was amazing.” He pressed a kiss to Jensen's hair, and then when Jensen lifted his head, he claimed a long, tender kiss. “The most important thing right now is that I'm home with you again.”  
  
Sighing, Jensen put his arm around Jared and laid his head on Jared's chest. He had just straightened up when Clif came pounding up the stairs.  
  
“Jensen!” The large man came into the room as if shot from a gun. “Someone shot at our front door, and it's taken out the whole of the glass panel on the left hand door. There's glass all over the place, and we'll need to patch it with plywood or something of that nature until we can get someone in to fix it.”  
  
“Oh, God! What now?” Jensen scratched his head. “How do you know it was gunfire?”  
  
“The slug's embedded in the wall beside the office!” said Clif. “I watch CSI, you know. The cops can use it to identify the shooter.”  
  
“No need,” announced Lindberg. “That would be Kathryn.”  
  
All three men turned to look at their prisoner, but it was Jared who asked the question.  
  
“Who's Kathryn?”  
  
“Kathryn Newton.” Lindberg shuddered. “She's the syndicate's enforcer. She was probably trying to get me, shut me up about the syndicate.”  
  
“Well, I guess she missed her chance for now,” said Clif. “You're safe in here.” He turned to Jensen. “Lowe’s is still open, but we only have half an hour before it closes. We should go.”  
  
The expression on Jensen's face indicated supreme displeasure, but he nodded and made his way to the stairs. “Okay. Let me grab my coat, and I'm with you.”  
  
Sticking his head around the corner into the corridor that led to the storage rooms, Jensen shouted for Mark. “Gotta run out for plywood, okay? I'll be back shortly.”  
  
“Plywood?” Mark emerged as he was speaking and grabbed hold of the steam iron. “Don't tell me! I don't think I wanna know.”  
  
“Yeah. Better that you don't.” Jensen disappeared down the stairs followed by Clif, and a moment later the sound of the SUV's engine starting up floated through the open windows. Sighing, Jared shook his head. Turning to Lindberg, he studied him for a second.  
  
“I don't get it. Why would you try to destroy Jensen's business? What did he ever do to you?”

  


~0~

Danneel was in her office, on the phone as usual, this time trying to find a glazier to come and repair the front door to the atelier as quickly as possible, and she only raised her hand in goodbye as Jensen and Clif passed through on their way to get plywood. When she heard the engine pull back in, she assumed that Jensen had forgotten his wallet or something of that nature and didn't look up, so she was completely astonished when Ruth Connell sauntered into her office in clouds of Chanel Chance. A young blonde woman followed her in and remained standing in the doorway, a smirk on her face.

“Danneel, my dear,” trilled Ruth. “Still doing the same old stuff I see. Hasn't that pretty boy of yours given you any incentive to continue working for him? You surely don't think you're going to end up as Mrs. Ackles? The boy is as queer as a three dollar bill.” Pulling a chair up to the desk, she settled herself into it with a rustle of silk, set her purse on the floor, and nodded to the blonde. “Thank you, Kathryn.”

The blonde in the doorway melted away back out into the shadows, and Ruth turned back to Danneel. “There! All cosy now. We can have a nice chat.”

Dropping the phone back into its cradle, Danneel raised her eyebrows. “I'm sure you're going to tell me what brings you here, whether I want to know or not, so the floor is yours.”

“You're too kind.” Ruth smiled, perfect teeth gleaming as she smiled. “We're on our way to the airport, and I thought I would come by and let you know that your plans for Milan just aren't going to work out. You see, you and yours have interfered with my business, and so I'm making sure that yours is shut down.”

“Don't be silly. How have we interfered with your business?” Danneel tapped her pen on the desk angrily, wondering how she could most speedily either summon help or get to Ruth and throttle her.

“It seems that the AG and the mayor are interesting themselves rather too much in my business dealings, and that means the contracts I had with the police aren't as—shall we say helpful—as they have been in the past.” For a moment, Ruth's smiling facade was gone, and pure venom sparked from her eyes. “It looks like I will need to spend some time in Argentina while I rebuild, and that's all your fault, you and your cow-eyed boss.”

Laughing, Danneel leaned back in her chair. “So, if it hadn't been for you meddling kids? Is that what you're saying?” As she was speaking, there was a loud pop from somewhere in the building, and Ruth's smile grew.

“You'll see. You'll see very shortly.” Ruth was looking towards the door, although for what Danneel couldn't imagine. Taking advantage of her moment of distraction, Danneel rose to her feet, intent on getting between her and the doorway. Ruth didn't seem to care. She leaned back in the chair with a Cheshire Cat smile on her face. “I don't expect your poor boss will want to continue his attempts to build a business now, and you certainly don't have what it takes to provide him with the incentive to keep going.” Gathering her purse, Ruth rose to her feet, still grinning. “Well now, It's been wonderful seeing you, but I must run. Beannachd leibh, my dear.”

“Oh, for fuck's sake!” Danneel ground her teeth together, then closed her fist around the nearest item on her desk, which happened to be a stapler, and punched Ruth hard in the jaw. Ruth dropped to the ground, out like a light, while Danneel surveyed her and massaged her knuckles.

As she was deciding what to do with the unconscious woman on her floor, there was a tap on the door, and Sterling appeared.

“David said you had a situation here,” he said and then took in the scene before him. “Oh, shit!  
”

~0~

“Look, it's nothing personal, I promise.” Lindberg peered up at Jared, and Jared frowned. “I just get my orders, and when I carry them out I get paid is all.”

“Orders from whom?” asked Jared.

“From the Captain.”

“Police captain?” Jared's jaw dropped. “Why on earth would a cop care about fashion?”

“Search me.” Lindberg shrugged his shoulders. “I guess he gets his orders too.”

“It just doesn't make sense,” said Jared, shaking his head.

“It doesn't have to make sense,” said a woman's voice, and Jared whirled around to see a young blonde woman in the doorway.

“Who the hell are you?” asked Jared, more confused than ever. He could tell she was nothing to do with the modeling industry, the badly bleached hair and overly heavy eye makeup attested to that. “The office is downstairs if you need Danneel.”

“Shut up,” said the newcomer, waving a large handgun at him. Turning to Lindberg, she smirked. “Hi, Chad. How's it going?”

“Hi, Kathryn. Could be better if you helped me get out of here.”

“Yeah, I guess,” she said, waving the gun in a gesture to Jared to keep away. “Sorry. Not today though.” Turning, she shot the hapless cop in the head.

“Wait!” Jared moved forward as if to help Lindberg, who was obviously dead, red blood trickling sluggishly from the wound in his forehead. “What are you doing? Why did…”

“I said shut up!” Kathryn turned back to Jared, leveling the gun with a steady hand. It's your turn now, pretty boy. My instructions are to make sure you don't look so pretty any more, so I guess it's gotta be your face." She raised the barrel of the pistol slightly.

“But why...?”

Jared knew that Mark had been in the storage room, ensuring his precious collection was safe and sound, and when he caught sight of the man himself appearing around the corner he knew that he had to alert him to the danger they were both in. For a second, it seemed to Jared that Mark hadn't grasped what was happening. He knew he had to act right then or he'd be dead.

Taking a deep breath, he yelled, “Please don't shoot me!”

It only took his shout to alert Mark to the scene playing out in the atelier, and to Jared's relief he saw the tailor step forward, raise the steam iron he had been using, and swing it at the woman's head, just as she was turning to see what the interruption might be.

It certainly did the trick. Kathryn fell and lay still. The gun fired, missing Jared by inches as the bullet lodged harmlessly in the brick wall, and Mark, looking somewhat surprised that the iron was still in his hand, rushed over to where Jared stood, white as a sheet and shaking.

“Hey, Jay, c'mere.” Dumping the iron onto the nearest flat surface, Mark caught Jared and helped him to a chair.

“She just killed the guy. She was gonna shoot me. I don't get it.”

A commotion on the stairs heralded the arrival of first Sterling and then Aldis as reinforcements finally arrived.  


~0~

As Jensen and Clif drew into the yard with their purchase, they were treated to the sight of Sergeant Gabriel Tigerman and Lieutenant Kurt Fuller assisting two extremely groggy looking women into the back of a squad car. The sight of Ruth Connell, who had once been his employer in handcuffs made him gasp, and worse, a van from the Coroner's office was pulling away.

Looking around in bewilderment, he spied Aldis emerging from the back door and hurried over. Aldis gave him a huge grin. “Everyone's fine. They'll tell you all about it. Can't stop now. I've got a story to file.” With that he was into his Audi and away with a screeching of tires, leaving Jensen staring after him, completely nonplussed.

Making his way back inside, all was bedlam. Clif was busy covering the empty space in the front door where the glass had been, but there was far more noise coming from the office, and he figured that it was there he should go if he wanted to find out what had happened.

The scene in the office would have been perfect in a sitcom. Unfortunately this was real, and he had no idea what was going on. Danneel, his partner and usually his rock in uncertain times, was clutching her right hand to her chest with tears in her eyes. Mark was pacing, grumbling something about his steam iron and spraying uncomplimentary adjectives far and wide. Jared, his beloved, was sitting huddled in a chair, white as a sheet, clutching a glass of scotch with a hand that was visibly trembling.

Nobody looked up when he entered. That was worrying. He cleared his throat and tapped on the door, and finally he had three pairs of dazed looking eyes all staring in his direction. “Can somebody tell me what's going on?”  
At that point, Danneel and Mark started talking at once, and he was no wiser. He gazed hopefully at Jared, but it didn't seem that Jared was capable of speech just then, merely burying his face in his glass. Finally, Jensen strode over to where Danneel was sitting behind her desk and reached for the hand that she was favoring. “Okay, you. What happened?”

“I think I broke my hand,” she said as he examined her fingers. She winced, but then looked up at him with a smile. “It really hurt, but I knocked her out cold! I've wanted to do that for the past eight years, the bitch!”

Turning to Mark, Jensen pointed to a chair and when Mark finally settled, he raised his eyebrows. “Okay, what happened? Why is Jared about to have a nervous breakdown? And why did Danni knock Ruth out?”

“I didn't see the Ruth thing,” growled Mark. “I was checking on the collection. One of the jumpsuits had fallen off its hanger and was creased—you know, the grey suede?—so I was steaming the creases out. I heard a shot, and when I went into the room to see what the hell, there was a blonde woman with a gun telling Jared she was going to shoot him in the face, so I smacked her with my steam iron. The bastards took it away. They said it was evidence.”

The blood drained away from Jensen's face as the implications of Mark's tale became clear. “Oh, my God! Jay!” Jensen hurried over to Jared's side, dropping to put his arms around his love. Jared gave a little gasp.

“She killed him. He was talking to me, and she just shot him dead. She was gonna shoot me next.”

Looking up at Mark, Jensen murmured his thanks. “I'll buy you another iron, I promise, the best iron I can find, but could you do me a favor? Could you get Danni over to the hospital for an X-ray, please?”

Faced with something concrete to do, Mark soon had Danneel up and organized, leaving Jensen to care for Jared, who was regaining some color but still appeared visibly shaken. They made their way up the stairs to their apartment and Jensen helped Jared strip, pausing from time to time to toss a garment of his own onto one of the chairs.

Helping Jared into the bed and pulling the duvet over him seemed to calm him. His trembling eased a little, and Jensen hopped in beside him, taking him into his arms.

“Hush now, baby. It's all over. You're safe here with me. I won't let anything hurt you.”

Now wasn't the time for kisses. That would come later, tomorrow maybe. Now was the time for comfort and love, and that Jensen could give him. Closing his eyes, he listened to Jared as his breathing eased and deepened until at last he was sleeping peacefully.  


~0~

The days following Jared's ordeal were filled with interviews by police, and by the DA, Mark Sheppard, who seemed overjoyed to have the opportunity to prosecute Connell and her associates. At her arraignment, it was asserted that the two women had been about to leave the country for Argentina, and bail was disallowed, which came as a great relief for Jensen.

The work of getting ready for the Milan showing took up the rest of Jared's time, and he began to think that he might be turning into a statue—a statue that also doubled as a pincushion, as Mark seemed to take delight in sticking pins in him. With a week to go before they were due to depart, Mark was putting together the orange suede prison-style jumpsuit that Jensen had designed, and which would complete the collection. Katie—also in statue mode as the garments she would wear were re-tailored to fit her—giggled at Jared each time he squealed. Mysteriously it seemed that Mark was able to fit clothes to her without actually stabbing her in sensitive places, much to her delight and Jared's annoyance.

Aisha, whose clothes were all ready, hung out and assisted in whatever way she could, but wasn't above stabbing Jared with the occasional pin either.

Adrianne, whose hopes of helping kids stay off drugs through 'Kick the Habit' had been dashed by the discovery of Ruth Connell's real business enterprise, had landed a job as fashion correspondent for Vanity Fair. She was going to go with them to Milan to report on fashion week there, and Mark was already lamenting that the women-folk outnumbered them.

“They'll snag all the beautiful Italian men,” he complained, just as David came into the sewing room bearing a tray loaded with food for the workers. “No fair! There'll be none left for me.”

“I heard that,” David growled. Mark, who was currently doing something with a voluminous lacy underskirt in which his head was buried, practically leapt out of his skin, and Jared, for the moment allowed to take a break from emulating a storeroom dummy, cackled with laughter.

“I must say that any beautiful Italian man who fancies us will be most unlikely to go for you, Mark,” snickered Aisha.

“Totally wrong plumbing,” smirked Katie, and then gasped as a pin finally did find its way into her thigh. “Goddammit, Mark!”

“If I were you, honeylamb, I'd quit harassing the models and come get some food before Jared eats everything.” David sounded stern, but he was obviously attempting to suppress a grin. “Besides, you'll be perfectly safe from those marauding Italian men trying to check your plumbing.”

Mark had emerged from the folds of organza and lace to face his partner. “Oh, yeah? And why might that be?”

“Because I'm coming with you, to keep you out of trouble,” was David's smooth reply.  


~0~

The city of Milan is an amazing combination of traditional and space-aged architecture. Jared couldn't believe his first sight of the Duomo, and even though exhausted after 14 hours of traveling, he couldn't wait to do some exploring. The idea that he was right where Leonardo Da Vinci had lived and worked pretty much blew his mind.

Checking into the NH Collection Milano Porta Nuova, the hotel where they would stay and where their collection would be shown was mind blowing on its own. Their suite had a breathtaking view of the city, and the sun was just beginning to set when he and Jensen arrived, staining the skyline with streaks of fire.

Their collection would be shown in the hotel's grand ballroom on the Saturday following their arrival, which left them with three days to prepare. Jensen was, as ever, stressed out, terrified that something dreadful would go wrong with the show, and that he would be laughed out of Europe. He hadn't managed any sleep on their journey, and was practically vibrating due to the amount of coffee he'd ingested since leaving New York.

Jared could tell that calming him down was going to take more than a few kind words.

“Check out the sunset,” he murmured, making his way to the balcony to gaze out at the view beyond the walls of the hotel.

“Yeah.” Jensen was distracted, pacing and unable to settle. “We need silk in those colors. Do you suppose we can…”

“I don't think you're gonna do any shopping tonight,” said Jared, turning to snag Jensen as he passed and winding one long arm around his waist to prevent his escape. “I think we're going to chill here with a couple of cocktails and room service. I bet they have risotto on the menu. Isn't risotto the big delicacy around these parts? There'll be plenty of time tomorrow before the rest of the tribe arrive with your collection.”

“We've got interviews scheduled for tomorrow morning,” Jensen objected, looking grim. Their arrival at Milan Malpensa Airport had been a nightmare. Paparazzi had descended upon them as they emerged from Arrivals. Somehow, Jared's incarceration had become big news, and newspapers bearing his mugshot were on every newsstand. It had been something of a battle to get through the throng and to a waiting vehicle that had been arranged by Jensen's Italian business manager, Stelio.  
“All the more reason why you need to get a good night's sleep.” Jared reached into his carry-on and found the small tube of lube he knew he was going to need, then led Jensen over to one of the huge beds, pulling him down to sit beside him. “It's going to be busy, for sure, but it's going to be incredibly well publicised, thanks to Ruth and her gang. They'll all come to see the collection just because of the publicity, and you'll get tons of orders.”

Jensen frowned at him, but Jared tugged him close and began to kiss all over his face, finally settling on his lips, nipping and nibbling before pressing down into a kiss. Jensen gasped in surprise, the parting of his lips giving Jared more access, and he took advantage right away. A moan shook Jensen as Jared pressed forward, tongue sliding out to take advantage.

Hands tangled up into Jared’s hair, then wandered down his chest, body inching forward until Jensen was sliding onto Jared’s lap. Jared made a satisfied little sound as he let his broad palms roam over Jensen's back to tug the silk T-shirt Jensen was wearing up and allow him access.

Jared smiled to himself, thinking that maybe, just maybe this would be a good way of tiring his highly strung lover out. They were in Italy, after all.

“I'm thinking a little amore wouldn't go amiss,” he murmured, swinging Jensen to the side and pushing him down on the bed to hold him pinned him there with his own body. Rolling over, he settled himself between Jensen's legs, lips almost touching Jensen's, their breath mingling.

“Smooth, Jay!” There was a laugh in Jensen's voice as he pulled Jared down to claim his mouth, tongue claiming entry to explore the silky interior.

“I thought so,” Jared murmured. He let Jensen take all his weight as he ground his hips down into Jensen's groin. His mouth found the sweat-damp flesh of Jensen's neck, so he could lick and nip his way down the long stretch of flesh and nuzzle into Jensen's shirt to suck hard on the skin over his collar bone.

It wasn't long before Jensen was struggling urgently to get himself free of his clothes, wriggling and writhing in his attempts to get himself naked. Satisfied that he had ensured that Jensen would be occupied for the next few moments, Jared blew a raspberry on the flesh he was currently nibbling and straightened up to rid himself of his own t-shirt. He reached down for Jensen's jeans, flipping the button and hauling them down over Jensen's thighs. Jared kissed his belly and the lines of his hips, each soft touch an act of adoration that stole Jensen's breath away.

Settling down at the end of the bed, Jared hoisted Jensen's legs up to rest on his shoulders and ran long fingers down the crack of his ass, a lazy grin on his lips as he pressed a kiss into the inside of Jensen's knee. Jensen whimpered, arms reaching to grasp at his legs and hold them up to give Jared access to every part of him. Jared groaned, suddenly needy as he looked at the way Jensen lay, hard for him and completely open.

“Beautiful,” he said as he kept stroking him. “You are so perfect.” He pressed his lips over Jensen's thigh, then up to lave the skin behind his balls, his warm hand caressing his ass teasingly before slipping a finger inside Jensen's entrance, feeding him just the tip before pulling it back out to run in circles around his quivering hole. He kept the pad of his finger playing teasingly with Jensen's hole. Lowering his face, he licked around it and then used his tongue to probe gently, while his fingers slid up to tease the sensitive skin of Jensen's cock. A pearl of moisture oozed from the tip of it, and Jared stroked it rhythmically as his thumb teased the slit until it began to drool in earnest.

Reaching for the lube he'd dropped onto the bedcover, Jared slicked up his fingers and then pressed one of them into his love's smooth, saliva-slick hole. Jensen gasped.

“Oh, yeah,” whispered Jared, smiling down at him. “Love to hear you make those pretty noises for me.” A second finger went the way of the first, and began to slide in and out, reaching for Jensen's prostate.

“Oh, God!” The jerk and plunge of Jensen's hips was enough to let Jared know he'd been successful, and Jensen sank his hand into Jared's hair, pulling it tight so they were eye to eye. “Fuck me, you sadist!”

Laughing, Jared withdrew his fingers, rolling himself into position between Jensen's thighs. The first press of his cock against Jensen's hole made Jensen jerk and gasp below him, eyes shining, reflecting colors from the setting sun as he tried and failed to push back against Jared's big dick. Jared was too heavy above him. He tried again, whimpering when Jared leant back, one big hand spread wide across his belly as the other lined their bodies up perfectly.

The stretch was exquisite. Slow, torturous and deliberate, filling Jensen inch by inch, only sinking deep enough to stretch him around the thick girth.

“Sadist, am I?” Jared's hand came up to frame Jensen's face, lips claiming him, tongue fucking his mouth as his thick cock spread him impossibly wide. Jensen moaned, and Jared pushed in again, teasing thrusts that were too shallow and short to give Jensen any sort of real relief. Jensen swore, a catalogue of obscenities that made Jared laugh again. “God, you've got a dirty mouth!”

Snapping his hips forward, Jared began to fuck him in earnest, filling Jensen with each thrust, his cock brushing right over his sweet spot as he gathered momentum. Jensen wasn't swearing any more, he was moaning, gasping as Jared felt his body tighten around him, pulling sensation through him to tighten his balls and light up the nerves at the base of his spine until he felt he could almost burst with the shivery sweetness of it.

Jensen arched under him, sticky splashes of his release spilling between them as his ass clenched tight around Jared's cock, and Jared couldn't help but cry out, biting his lip as he came, body spasming as he felt the pressure inside him break, his balls tightening to pour thick fluid out of him and set tingling fire shooting along his spine and down his thighs.

The two of them paused, panting as they relearned how to breathe once more, and then Jared slowly rolled to his feet to go find a damp cloth to clean Jensen up. “I love you, Jen,” he whispered.

“Love you back, you sadistic monster,” smirked Jensen, and then yawned.

“Better get some sleep, love. Tomorrow's gonna be a busy day.” Jared helped him into the bed and tucked him in, then slipped in beside him.

“Yeah,” mumbled Jensen. “Next we take Italy, then the world.” He yawned again and snuggled against Jared, finally asleep.

Jared lay awake for a few minutes more, reflecting on the days ahead and what his life had become. He was in Italy! The next few days would be hectic, but nevertheless, he was in Italy, and he had the most beautiful boyfriend in the world. His life was awesome! He was still thinking how amazing his life had become when he drifted off to sleep.  


Epilogue

_Excerpt from Fashion Weekly_

_A new fashion sensation made its mark on Milan today, and the world of men's fashion has changed forever. 200 selected guests, VIPs from the fashion Industry along with designers from all backgrounds, and enthusiasts from the fashion and movie industry attended the first international showing from Jensen Ackles and the House of Ackles._

_Mr. Ackles, no stranger to Milan from his days as a model, gave attendees a warm welcome as the eventful show kicked off. It was sheer performance art, produced like a concert, and the models shone in their roles, with principal model Jared Padalecki flanked by his two female colleagues showing off the newest styles from Ackles that blended cultures and continents in the display._

_Ackles shines in his intelligent use of fabrics, jewel colors and futuristic cuts that offer men the opportunity to be more than the backdrop for their women. Burnt orange is THE color of the collection. Ackles uses raw silks, suede, leather and linen to make a statement of masculinity which is sure to become the go-to wherever men desire to assert their presence. These designs are not just attractive, they are practical and wearable, so look out, ladies! Step up your game. The men are going to be front and center from now on._

_I personally will be stealing the orange suede jumpsuit modeled so beautifully by Padalecki. Why should the men have all the fun?_  


_Adrianne Palicki_

**Author's Note:**

> Every year, the amazing [](http://wendy.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://wendy.livejournal.com/)**wendy** takes on the daunting task of herding authors, artists, betas and who knows what else, and the fruits of her labors is always an amazing collection of stories and artwork that blows the mind. Our thanks to Wendy for her efforts. We love participating in this challenge, and we absolutely adore the results! Show may be coming to a close, (for now!) but we hope that doesn't mean that this amazing challenge is over. 
> 
> We'd like to thank our artist, [](http://emmatheslayer.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://emmatheslayer.livejournal.com/)**emmatheslayer** for her artwork. Go [here](https://emmatheslayer.livejournal.com/641696.html) to check it out and sing her praises.
> 
> We'd also like to thank [](http://firesign10.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://firesign10.livejournal.com/)**firesign10** for stepping up and beta-ing our messy story. Thank you for your generous help, even though you still had to finish your own Big Bang. You made the story far better than it would've been.
> 
> A further shoutout goes to [](http://dwimpala67.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://dwimpala67.livejournal.com/)**dwimpala67** , who actually made us start writing, and who nagged us beautifully when we were slacking. The story wouldn't exist if it weren't for her.


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